This Too Shall Pass
by kulina
Summary: The highs are ecstasy and the lows are nearly unbearable in the unpredictable world of Navy Street. Throw a sister into the already dysfunctional Kulina family, and everything erupts into chaos.
1. Chapter 1

Nate woke slowly, his eyes focusing on the warm sun streaming in through his bedroom window. He blinked a few times and turned slightly to glance at the clock. 10:34 am. Jay wouldn't be awake yet, but Zoey might be. Nate yawned and nudged the quilt off himself with his feet. How he'd slept in sweats under a blanket at the beginning of a California summer, he'd never know. But now it was morning, which meant his body needed fuel and exercise.

He stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, where he stared at himself in the mirror. His hair was getting longer, and as much as he hated to admit to himself, he preferred it this way. He'd always kept his hair buzzed short, but when it grew enough to fill in a little and stop looking shaved off, he liked how the darker color suited him. He turned from the mirror, took a piss, and then scrubbed a hand over his face to wake himself up.

On his way to the kitchen, he saw his little sister, Zoey, sitting on the couch. He didn't have to look closely to know she was crunching on Cheerios. "Want some eggs?" he asked as he passed.

"Sure," she replied, not turning her attention from the TV. She was sixteen and enjoying her first week of summer vacation, but that didn't mean she'd stop eating Cheerios. The kid practically lived off of them. Nate wasn't a health nut, but being a fighter meant knowing how to take care of your body, and watching his kid sister eat only Cheerios every day wasn't flying with him.

"What are you watching?" Nate asked from the kitchen a few minutes later. He'd been trying to place the show while the eggs cooked on the stove, but it just wasn't happening. "Scandal?"

"No, it's this new show. How to Get Away With Murder."

"You planning on killing someone?" Nate asked, turning back to the eggs.

She laughed. "Not at the moment."

"Good. I don't wanna have to hide a body."

"Aww, you'd help me hide the body? I knew you loved me."

"Shut up. And you know Jay'd be the one hiding the body. He lives for that shit."

Nate turned the stove off and grabbed two forks out of the drawer. He carried the pan over to the sofa where Zoey was sitting. She moved over without being asked and set her cereal on the coffee table. Nate sat next to her, set the pan between them, and handed her a fork. She threw in a few words of explanation here and there, but since they were watching the first episode, Nate hadn't missed much.

The episode ended in a cliffhanger, and soon half an hour on the couch had turned into nearly two hours. The pan sat empty between the siblings as the credits for the third episode started.

Nate exhaled and stood up.

"Nooooo," Zoey moaned.

"I know," Nate agreed, "but I gotta go to the gym. Dad's gonna start wondering where I am."

At the mention of their father, Zoey made a face. Nate chose to ignore her. He returned to his room to change into jeans and a hoodie.

"I'll be back in a couple hours," he stated. "Late lunch?"

"Yeah," Zoey replied. "Jay should be up by then."

"Kay. See ya."

"Bye."

Zoey stayed on the couch until she heard the gate clang shut behind Nate, and she stood up to take the dishes to the sink. The clock said it was well past noon, which meant Nate's "late lunch" was going to take place around 3 o'clock at the earliest, and that meant they'd be eating another 9pm dinner. Zoey honestly didn't mind it, but it was a little strange for her body to adjust from school and Dad's rigorous meal schedule to Nate and Jay's lounging schedule.

She lived with Alvey, her dad, on school nights, but she escaped to Nate and Jay's every chance she got. It wasn't that she hated her dad… it was more that her dad didn't know what to do with her. She wasn't a fighter like her brothers, but she wasn't a princessy girly-girl either. She liked to shop, sure, but so did Jay. She found exercise in swimming, not fighting. Her brothers both enjoyed cooking more than she did, and she preferred sleep to aggressive exercise. This confusion caused a big rift between father and daughter.

Nate and Jay, on the other hand, didn't push Zoey to be a stereotypical girl. They didn't care how the things she liked and didn't like fit into society's definition of gender; the brothers just accepted those things as part of her personality. They all went to the pool sometimes, just like Zoey would run around the gym and spar with her brothers sometimes. They had a good balance. Actually, Nate and Zoey had such a good balance that Jay sometimes referred to them as "Yin and Yang," or even "the twins." Nate was 21 and Zoey 16, but they could spend hours together and not get sick of each other. Jay was a little too crazy for Nate's calm demeanor, but Zoey was just talkative enough. Nate and Zoey also had a sort of sixth sense when it came to each other. When Zoey was little, Nate would go into her room and wake her in the middle of the night, because he could feel, from the other side of the house, that she was having a nightmare. Zoey sometimes knew exactly what sort of day Nate had before he got home. She'd tell Jay that Nate had been having a bad day and to make macaroni and cheese casserole for dinner because that's what he wanted. And Nate would come home, and it would be true.

Jay, though… He was the dad Zoey never felt she had. Nate and Zoey were Jay's top priority, no matter what. He made sure their homework was done, that there was dinner on the table, and that everyone went to bed at a decent hour. He truly cared for his siblings – or, as he sometimes referred to them, his kids. With Alvey being a fighter when Zoey was born, she hadn't formed a bond with her father that most children share with their parents. Since Mom was immediately out of the picture and Alvey was always gone, it was Jay that fed Zoey and played with her and picked her up when she was crying. He'd been 11 years old when she was born. It hadn't been a cakewalk, taking care of a baby when he was still just a kid himself, but in the six months or so that Mom had stuck around after Zoey was born, Jay had gotten the hang of it.

When Jay was fifteen, he gave up on Alvey and officially started taking care of Nate and Zoey alone. Within eight months, he'd moved them (illegally) into a tiny apartment that he paid for by bagging groceries every day. He hadn't finished high school, but he put his all into making sure Nate did, even with the constant fight training. Once Nate was old enough to start helping watch Zoey, Jay picked up a second job as a busboy at night. He hated it, but he'd get home in time to see Nate off to school and get Zoey to kindergarten. He'd sleep until it was time to go back to Ralph's and bag more groceries and then do it all again.

Zoey didn't know how long she'd been staring out the window when Jay broke her out of her thoughts.

"Morning," he announced, sauntering in.

"Hey," Zoey replied, going back to the dishes.

"You eat?"

"Yep."

"Is Nate at the gym?"

"Yep."

"Okay, then," Jay said, walking up to his little sister and squeezing her in a hug.

"You need a shower," Zoey chastised. "Ugh, gross!"

"Shut up," he teased," I'm delicious. So, what are you doing today?"

"Not sure. Taking it easy. Nate and I started a new show this morning."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. It's called How to Get Away With Murder, and it's amazing."

"You planning on killing someone?"

"That's what Nate said!" Zoey laughed. "What are you gonna do today?"

"I," Jay announced, throwing his arms out to the side, "am going to throw a party."

* * *

Nate was cooling off in the cage after sparring with Joe Daddy when all of a sudden, in walked a familiar face. Nate's eyes widened slightly, and Alvey, who was standing over him, glanced back at the gaggle of chattering guys in the doorway.

Unable to see what Nate had seen, Alvey murmured, "The fuck's going on?" His voice rose to a shout. "Ay. Ay! What, is the ice cream man here? Get back to work!"

The guys dispersed, and all that was left was a lean man in a hoodie slowly walking toward the cage.

"Cool Nate down. Shadow box," Alvey instructed Joe Daddy. He stepped off the cage and down to meet his former prodigy. "When'd you get out?" he inquired, skipping the formalities.

"Yesterday," the man answered. His voice was softer than Alvey remembered. "I'm at a halfway house."

"D'you fuck that up yet?" Alvey asked, his voice hard.

The other man was slightly taken aback, but he knew he'd deserved the question. He ducked his head. "Nah, man. It's different now. I'm not… I'm not causing problems."

Alvey nodded, taking it in. He glanced behind him and then quietly asked, "The fuck are you doing here, Ryan?"

The other man pressed his lips together and shook his head. Alvey could still read Ryan Wheeler like the back of his hand. "Come on, come to my office. Tell me where your head's at."

Ryan looked all around the gym as they walked through. So many changes… New arrangement, new equipment, and new faces. "Is that Nate in the cage?" he asked, shutting Alvey's door behind himself.

"Yeah, man," Alvey smiled, unable to keep the pride out of his voice. "He's just finishing up camp. He's on a Long Beach card. Fighting Walker. UFC stuff."

"Wow. Yeah?"

"He beats Walker, he looks good doing it – he's a serious conversation at 155. Serious." Alvey leaned back in his chair.

Ryan took a moment to look at the photos behind Alvey on the shelf. His eyes glossed over a few, but he focused on a crinkled black and white one of Alvey's kids. Jay was holding Nate in one arm and Zoey in the other. "How's Jay and Little Zee doing, anyway?"

"Zoey just finished her junior year. I guess she's supposed to start looking at colleges soon. She'll be a senior in September."

"Senior," Ryan exhaled. "They grow up too fast."

"Ah, tell me about it. And Jay… Don't ask me about Jay," Alvey muttered. "I'm missing a computer, if that tells you anything."

"Is he fighting at all?"

"Nah, nah. He hasn't fought in a couple years."

"I heard that he was tearing up! What happened?"

Alvey pulled out his phone, not wanting to think about what had taken place. "He kept pulling out of fights," he explained, trying to sound indifferent. "Made me look like an asshole."

"Fuck," Ryan cursed, concerned. "Is he gettin' fucked up?"

"Yeah, you know Jay. He's getting fucked up, he fucks things up, he steals shit… he's a fuckup. Ya know. I had to 86 his ass outta the gym cause I don't want him poisoning Nate's camp, not with a fight like this coming up." He sighed. "No, I don't wanna fucking talk about Jay. What about you? Huh? You show up here after five and a half years – you look good. You in shape? You wanna fight?"

"No, no," Ryan corrected quickly. "I'm not even thinking about that right now."

"Why not? I mean, four years off, you're still young, no wear and tear in the body…"

"Yeah, it's more about, like. What I can handle, you know. Emotionally."

"Oh, okay."

"Kinda easing back into things," Ryan admitted as Alvey interrupted, "I gotcha, I gotcha."

"Yeah just, one step at a time, you know." Ryan explained.

"No, no. Say no more," Alvey replied, his voice gentle. "I understand."

Ryan looked down at his shoes. "Yeah, but honestly, Alvey…" He cleared his throat. "I was hoping, maybe, I could help out around here, you know? Coach the guys up. You know, whatever you need.

"You know, the truth of it is, Ryan, I'm kinda sucking wind from my asshole," Alvey admitted.

"That's fine. I'd do it for free, man. Just help out. Fit in wherever."

"You'd do it for free?"

"Yeah, man. Whatever you need."

There was a pause as Alvey thought about it. "I don't know. Maybe…" He blew a breath out from between his lips. "Wanna maybe help me with Nate's camp? That'd be good for him. For a couple days, and then we can talk after?"

"Yeah," Ryan agreed eagerly.

"Yeah?" Alvey asked.

"Couple days, man. I'll tune him up."

"Good," Alvey declared, relaxing a little. "It'll be like old times, only better." He smiled.

"Yeah."

"Good," Alvey repeated, standing up. "Good."

"Thanks," Ryan said, a smile on his face now, too. He stood as well, and the pair shook hands.

"Glad you're okay."

"Thank you," Ryan answered humbly.

"Oh, you know what," Alvey remembered, "I got a bunch of shit I wanna show ya. Come here."

Ryan followed Alvey back across the gym to a storage closet. Alvey tugged on a thin wire near the ceiling, and a light flickered on, revealing two boxes stuffed with posters, photos, and Ryan's old trophies. "I was gonna throw this shit away," the older man stated, "but instead I moved it around fifteen times."

* * *

Alvey's younger son was on the second floor pedaling a stationary bike. He'd managed to balance a gallon jug on one of the handlebars, and he was sweating bullets. He could see Lisa coming towards him, just after Ryan and his dad had walked through. Uh-oh.

"Hey, Nate," she called up to him. "Where's your dad?"

"Over by the storage thing," Nate answered, his brain ticking. She doesn't know, she doesn't know. Protect her. Warn her, his mind screamed. "Lisa," he called, sure to keep his voice even.

She looked back up at him.

"Wheeler's here."

She looked up at him, her eyes unreadable, but he could tell she was thankful for the warning. He watched as she strutted up to the men and stood her ground. As odd as it had been for Nate when she and his dad got together (Lisa had always been "Ryan's fiancée" in Nate's mind, and then suddenly she wasn't. Not to mention that Lisa and Jay were the same age), Nate genuinely cared about Lisa. She was tough and funny, and she made his dad a better person.

He got off the stationary bike, wanting to avoid any explosion that might take place. After he gave his legs a few seconds to adjust to their new stillness, he slung his bag over his shoulder, grabbed his water, and jogged down the stairs. As he was heading around the corner, Ryan came up to him.

"Hey, Nate, you rollin' out?"

"Yeah," Nate called, faltering to let the man catch up to him. They stepped out into the sunshine together, and Nate grabbed his bike. He wheeled it along as he accompanied Ryan to the bus stop.

"You're a big-ass 155," Ryan joked as they walked.

"Yeah, I'm 172 right now," Nate admitted.

Ryan gave a low whistle. "Fuck. Don't you have a fight in three days?"

"Yeah," Nate muttered.

"It's gonna be a nasty cut. Think you can do it?"

"I'd better," Nate said, and they both chuckled. "Else my dad's gonna kill me. You know how crazy he is."

"Nah, you'll be alright, man," Ryan laughed. "I cut twenty pounds every time I fight. Two gallons of water a day to help with the hunger…"

Nate held up his jug.

"Yeah. Good, good," Ryan affirmed. "So, your dad said you had a good camp. You feel ready?"

"Yeah," Nate nodded, the lie spilling out of his mouth. "Yeah, for sure."

"Oh, yeah?"

"What about you, you back now or what?" Nate asked, clearly not wanting to continue talking about the fight.

"Maybe, I don't know."

"Look, my – my wrestling could use a little work," Nate began, taking on a tone that was almost shy.

"Yeah, your dad and I are talking. We're gonna work something out. Don't worry, I'll get you tuned up."

"That'd be awesome."

"Well, this is me right here," Ryan declared, motioning to a bench marked BUS STOP. The two men clapped hands.

Nate stood, staring at Ryan and kind of nodding awkwardly, not wanting to leave him.

Ryan gave him a small smile. "It's not that bad," he assured Nate. "I've got reading material." He held up a tabloid magazine for proof.

Nate smiled back. "Enjoy," he teased, and pulled his hood up over his head.

"Give Jay a shout. And hug your sister for me."

"Yeah, I will," Nate replied. "Be safe, man." He threw a leg over his bicycle and headed home. It was hot on his ride back, uphill on a SoCal summer afternoon in jeans and a hoodie, but every drop of sweat was weight lost, and he needed to work off seventeen pounds before Saturday.

Before he even got to the gate, he could tell Jay was awake and high as fuck. There was loud chatter in front of the house, and Nate could smell pot. There was a piece of paper stuck in the fence – fuck. About the rent again. He stepped off his bike and started weaving through Jay's "friends" to get to his room for some peace and quiet.

"Hey, Nate, what's up dog," a big Hawaiian guy greeted as a blonde girl handed him a bong. Nate couldn't remember his name. They bumped elbows as Nate passed.

The air in the house was cooler than it was outside, but not much. All the windows and doors were open, letting the hot air in. Nate was more bothered by the noise than the heat, though. People were smoking around the foosball table and drinking beers on the couch. It was the usual, but with Wheeler coming back to the gym, Nate needed to process.

Nate finally got to his room, opened the door, and was greeted with the sight of his brother's naked ass.

"Not fucking now, man!" Jay called, not even bothering to turn around. He was clad in only an Indian headdress and his beloved sunglasses as he pounded into some girl from behind.

"You're in my room, Jay," Nate explained. He wished he could say this was the first time he'd experienced this, but that would be a lie.

"Oh," Jay said, slowing down as he recognized his brother's voice. The girl remained a moaning mess under him anyway. "Well, this is fucking embarrassing." He sighed. "The damage is done, Nate. Five more minutes? Five."

Nate dropped his bag by his dresser and walked away.

"Shut the door, please?" Jay called. "Shut the fucking door, please, please."

Nate obliged and headed into the kitchen to make a smoothie. That Asian girl, Kacey, was there, peppering him with questions and trying to be sexy. He ignored her.

"How come you don't talk?" she finally asked.

"I do talk," he muttered.

"No, you don't. You just work out and drink those fucking smoothies and eat fucking celery and don't talk to anyone."

Nate raised his eyebrows slightly and walked away, said smoothie in hand. He hated celery. He headed to Zoey's door and knocked. There was silence. He knocked again. "Zebra, it's me. I know you're in there."

She opened the door a crack, saw that it was indeed her brother, and let him in. She locked the door behind him. "Oh, good. I thought you were somebody else that was gonna try to have sex in here."

Nate gave a small smile as he plopped down on her bed. "Jay's having sex in my room."

"Oh, god," she groaned, dropping her face into her hands. She took a seat next to her brother.

"On my bed."

"No!"

Nate made a silly face at her. "I walked in and got a great view of his ass."

Zoey couldn't help but laugh. "Gross."

"Yeah. He's gonna be cleaning everything. And I mean everything."

"That's good," she giggled. "How was the gym?"

"Okay."

"Just okay?"

"Joe Daddy made me got on the scale," he explained, avoiding the subject of Wheeler. Zee had been devastated when everything went down with him a few years ago. As great as it was to see him again after all this time, Nate didn't want to let his little sister in on what was going on when Wheeler could easily fuck everything up again at any minute.

"And?"

"Aaand. I've gotta lose seventeen pounds in the next two days."

"Yikes," Zoey murmured sympathetically.

"Yeah. So I've got my water and my smoothie. No baking until Sunday, got it?"

"Yeah. I'll make you some weed brownies after the fight."

"Don't let Jay hear you talk like that," Nate advised as he pulled something up on his phone. Zoey took the smoothie he'd balanced against his hip and tried a sip. The taste of strawberry mixed with protein powder exploded across her tongue.

"Who says I'm just talking?" she grinned, swallowing thickly.

"Zee," he warned.

"Yeah, yeah," she replied, pushing the smoothie cup back into his hand. "No drugs til I'm done with school, I got it. You two are the biggest fucking hypocrites."

"Yeah, well. We want you to do well."

"I'm fine," Zoey insisted. "Hey, is that Walker?" she asked, peering over Nate's shoulder at his screen, but there was a yell from down the hall that cut off Nate's answer.

"HEYYYYY PARTY'S OVER! EVERYBODY OUT, OUT, OUT, OUT, OUT! Andale, andale!" Jay shouted.

"Oh, good," Zoey sighed, falling back onto her bed. She shut her eyes and listened as it got quieter. If Nate was being honest, he was relieved as well. They both jumped at the loud, sudden banging on Zoey's door.

"Let's go burn some meat!" Jay was yelling. Nate walked up and opened the door, cell phone and smoothie still in hand.

"Hey! Nate! Watcha got there, pal?" Jay asked, already walking away.

"Walker's got heavy hands," Nate murmured, staring at his screen. He closed Zoey's door behind himself and followed Jay out to the yard.

"Yeah, well," Jay replied, "that's all he's got. Gentlemen!" Jay called to the guys standing around the foosball table, "Let's go!" And back to Nate, "And I'm telling you, that's a highlight reel, so you're not gonna see all the other times he gets his fucking ass whipped. Here, sit down," Jay instructed, motioning to the old chair for Nate to sit in. "You're gonna fucking smash this kid, Nate. You got this. Clint's a little bitch."

"He's won seven in a row," Nate disputed.

"Against fuckin' nobody, Nate! Fuckin' nobody. You're gonna do tremendous fuckin' damage to this young man. You gotta drag him to the fucking deep end and you're gonna wait til he curls up like a bag of fucking monkey bitch. Trembling, whimpering monkey bitch. Okay? Or you could just punch him in the fucking face, cause he hates that. That's how I beat him."

"That was three years ago, Jay."

"I know, but it's the same motherfucker, bro. It's the same motherfucker."

Nate sighed. "Hey. This was in the fence," he stated, pulling the crumpled paper from his back pocket. "You said you paid the rent."

"I did," Jay replied, but he glanced at the paper anyway. "He's trippin'. We're a few hundred short, that's it. Don't worry about it."

"Well, what happened to the money from my last fight?" Nate could see Zoey walking out of the house, and he wanted the conversation to be over as soon as possible. He didn't want her stressing about money any more than she already was.

"It's gone," Jay admitted calmly, pulling the meat off the grill.

"Where did it go," Nate asked flatly.

"Rent, bills, supplements… Ya know. Shit is expensive." Some brunette walked up to Jay and started making out with him. Nate snorted and looked away. A moment later, his mind placed her as the girl Jay had been fucking in his room. She pulled away and sauntered off. Jay smacked her ass as she walked.

"Hey," Jay continued, easily slipping back into his conversation with Nate. "Don't I always fucking take care of you?"

"Yeah," Nate agreed quietly.

"Ah. You ever want for anything? I don't recall us ever sleeping on the fucking beach, do I? Do I?" Jay pulled Nate in tight and planted a big kiss on his temple. Nate cracked a smile at his brother's sloppy show of affection. "No. All you need to do right now – thank you, my friend," Jay murmured to the Hawaiian guy, who handed him a joint. He made a show of breathing it in, and both guys laughed. "You need to focus on this fight. That is the only thing your mind needs to be on right now. Okay?"

Zoey walked up and collapsed into the chair next to Nate. The sight of Jay in brightly striped underwear waving a spatula around in the front yard and talking animatedly to Nate put a fond smile on her face. Her family was so weird.

"Now. You wanna spar tomorrow?" Jay asked Nate around the cloud of smoke he was blowing.

"Dad doesn't want you in the gym."

"Then it's settled. We'll all go. Come on, it'll be fun."

When Nate didn't answer, Jay put on his puppy face. Nate held out for a few seconds, but quickly sighed in defeat. "Could you keep your fucking balls off my chicken, please?"

"Yes," Jay whispered, pumping his fist in the air. "Nate's gonna beat the shit out of Clint Walker, Zee."

"I know," she smiled. She gave Nate a punch on the arm.

"Okay, you two," Nate mumbled.

"Gimme an N!" Jay shouted.

"N!" Zoey yelled.

"Oh, here we go," Nate groaned.

"Gimme an A!"

"A!" The few people still in the yard joined in.

"Gimme an T!"

"T!"

"Gimme an E!"

"E!"

"What's that spell?!"

"NAAAAATE!"

Zoey threw her arms around her brother and squeezed. "Ahh, I'm so excited for you to kick his ass," she squealed.

"Yeah, til Dad makes you wear a dress," Nate reminded.

"Ugh," she replied, letting go of him to slump. "I'll bring clothes to change into."

"You'd better," Jay agreed. "I don't wanna see any more of your underwear than I did last time."

"Who's parading around in underwear right now!" Zoey exclaimed.

"Wait, what happened last time?" Nate asked.

"I was really excited, okay?" Zoey began defensively, but Jay cut her off.

"Princess over here was wearing a dress like Daddy said, and she was jumping around and flashing everybody. And I mean, everybody. Couldn't get the horrible images out of my mind for weeks."

Nate laughed. Zoey stuck her tongue out at her brothers. "You were knocking people out!" she exclaimed to Nate, who was smiling at the story. "It was a big deal!"

With no warning, Nate grabbed his little sister and put her in a headlock, giving her a noogie to mess up her hair.

"Nate! No! NATE!" She tried to hit him, but she was stuck. A laugh bubbled out of her anyway.

"A little to the left, Zo," Jay coached, but it did nothing to stop the twins. He pulled the meat off the grill and jumped in to start tickling his little sister. She shrieked and started laughing hysterically.

"JAY! NATE! STOP IT! STOP!"

Even Nate was laughing then. Zoey started calling for help, but the last of Jay's party guests had exited the yard.

"We've got you now, little girl," Jay taunted. All Zoey could do was scream and laugh. She squirmed so hard that she slid down out of the chair. Nate let go of her and opted to start tickling her with Jay.

She screamed again. "I CAN'T – BREATHE!" She was laughing and thrashing in the grass under her brothers.

"Say 'uncle,'" Jay instructed. "Say it."

"JAY!"

"Somebody's gonna call the cops," Nate cautioned, but he was still smiling.

"Say it," Jay repeated, ignoring Nate's warning and continuing to tickle his little sister mercilessly. Zoey was now laughing so hard she couldn't make any sounds. "Zoey Grace, say it. Say it."

Finally, she caught a breath. "UNCLE!" she screamed, and her brothers immediately stopped. She scrambled a few feet away from them, breathing hard, but she was still smiling. "I hate you both."

"Ahh, you love us," Jay replied, standing up and walking back to the grill, shaking his ass as he went.

* * *

"I didn't leave him for you," Lisa was telling Alvey for the millionth time. "I left him for me. I don't know how many times I have to beat this into your brain."

The argument was a never-ending circle, and now that Ryan had returned to the gym, it had come back full force.

"He uses people, Alvey," Lisa continued. "The second you got him to UFC, he dumped your ass for Greg Jackson."

"Okay, that was a long time ago – you're not smoking those," he muttered as Lisa grabbed a pack of cigarettes. "That was a long time ago, and he knows he messed up!"

"You don't know him like I do," Lisa insisted.

"I know he's a superstar, and I know he's twenty eight, and I know he's got a lot of fight left in him. That I know. We – we are hanging on a very thin thread, financially. You tell me that every day."

Lisa nodded.

"Okay, so guys like Ryan don't come around every day. I can't let him go. If I'm gonna stay relevant, I need a superstar in my camp. Ryan's a superstar."

"How do you even know if he wants to fight again?" Lisa asked.

Her question was enough for Alvey to know that he'd almost gotten her to give in. Just a little more work, and he'd have her.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, as Alvey walked up to the gym, he could see Lisa standing outside waiting for him. "Oh, man, this can't be good," he mumbled to himself. "What's up?" he called.

"Okay, try not to freak out," Lisa began. "They're just messing around."

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, tearing off his sunglasses and storming into the building.

Nate and Jay were sparring roughly in the cage, and Zoey was hanging upside down from the top of it, talking to Joe Daddy with her calves hooked around the top bar. All Alvey could see, though, was that Jay was in the building.

"HEY!" Alvey screamed. "What the fuck are you doing?! Are you out of your fucking mind?"

Zoey quickly flipped off the top, landing solidly on her feet, and backed smoothly away from the scene. She'd been all about seeing everybody at the gym – she hadn't been to Navy Street in several weeks with school and finals – but she knew Jay would surely catch hell when Alvey got back. They all thought it would be at least another hour.

"Are you out of your mind? Are you out of your fucking mind?" Alvey kept repeating, heading in Jay's direction, but Jay didn't seem too bothered.

"Ah, we're training, Pops."

"Get out of the fucking cage," Alvey ordered, opening the door himself. "Get out of the cage! You could have cut him."

"But I didn't cut him, so why don't you chill the fuck out," Jay retorted as he walked down the steps, unwinding the tape around his wrists and catching his breath.

"Chill the fuck out?" Alvey asked, and he had that crazy look in his eyes that had Jay turning away. "Why don't I fucking chill the fuck out?" Alvey punctuated his words by throwing his drink all over Jay's back. "Get out," he ordered again. "Get out. Everybody go home. Gym's closed today."

"He's getting a little nasty in his old age," Jay joked as he slid on his sunglasses. His tank top was splattered with whatever green shit Alvey had been drinking, but he kept calm.

"Jay, I'm warning you, just get out of here!"

Nate exited the cage himself and used his entire upper body to slam the door shut. He crashed onto the steps and started ripping his tape off as Zoey was slipping out the back door. She ran as hard as she could, her feet pounding against the cement. Joe Daddy was the only one who'd seen her leave, and he wouldn't spill where she'd gone.

These were Zoey's least favorite moments, when she and her brothers were all scattered because Dad was yelling again. She hated that he could separate them. They were Nate's least favorite moments, too, because he was disappointed in himself for messing around with Jay and because Dad couldn't find it in him to give Jay a chance. Jay was everything to Nate, and Dad was too blind to see it. Or maybe he just didn't care. And Jay? He wasn't concerned about much of anything except Nate and Zoey. And maybe getting high. He'd been taking Alvey's crap all his life, but he'd failed to protect his little siblings from getting hurt by their father again, and that killed Jay inside. Their fun morning had turned sour in less than thirty seconds.

Jay waited in his truck outside for ten minutes. That was plenty of time for Zoey to pull herself together and start walking home. Nate's bike was gone, but Zoey had ridden to the gym with Jay, and he knew that she hadn't gone home with Nate, because she was terrified of him when he was angry.

Jay drove a couple of laps around the streets that led to the house. He saw Lisa smoke at least two cigarettes outside the overhead door, but he couldn't find his sister, didn't see her even once. He left her a voicemail and drove straight to the liquor store.

By the time the sun was setting, Nate still hadn't left his room, and Zoey was still MIA. Jay was starting to get worried, even though he was drunk. He wobbled across the hall to knock lightly on Nate's door. Silence. Jay pushed the door open to find his brother lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. He'd clearly been there a long time.

"Zo never came home," Jay informed him, trying to keep from slurring his words.

Nate didn't say anything. Jay turned away, frustrated at his brother for not caring and tearing into himself for not trying harder to find her before it got dark out. California wasn't safe. Not LA, and especially not Venice.

Jay closed the door and walked further down the hall to Zoey's room. He laid down on her bed and looked at the room like she'd see it. The nightstand was closer to her bed than Jay's was to his. Because she had shorter arms, he figured. He stared at the photo she had taped haphazardly to the side of her nightstand – it was an older one Jay barely remembered posing for, maybe at her birthday. No, it had been Nate's. Yeah. Jay had on a backwards baseball cap, and each brother had an arm slung around Zo's shoulders. Jay and Zoey had on big smiles, and even Nate wasn't scowling. It was sweet. Jay's stomach started to ache.

He moved on and was starting to read the titles on her bookshelf (it was sparse, because they didn't have money for books. When they wanted to read something, they waited for the library to get it, but Jay would splurge and get her paperback copies of her favorites for her birthday. She'd always been a good reader. Jay wished he could spend all afternoon reading like she could. The little nerd.) when Nate interrupted him.

"I'm going," he said. Jay slowly looked up to see him standing in the doorway.

"What?"

"You want me to go look for her, right? That's what you meant?" Jay didn't answer, so Nate repeated, "I'm going. I'm taking my bike. Not sure when I'll be back."

Nate disappeared around the corner, but Jay called after him, "Bring a jacket. And one for Zee, too."

Jay shut his eyes and pressed his face into Zoey's light blue pillowcase and waited for sleep to overtake him.

It felt like mere seconds before Nate was shaking him awake. "Jay. JAY."

"Mmm," Jay mumbled. "'M up. What's happening?"

"I can't find her."

"What?" Jay said, sobering a bit.

"Her phone's off, and she's not in any of her usual places. Jay, I can't find her."

He could tell Nate was starting to panic. "How long were you gone?"

"Almost two hours. I went everywhere I could think of."

"Gimme the list."

"The library. The statue on main street. The park and the pier. I went to the rides and everything. The place on Pacific Avenue where the letters are strung across the street. I checked the skate park and the place on 3rd street where she buys those hot dogs…"

"Did you check the beach?"

"The whole beach? I'm supposed to check the entire beach?"

"She was on foot, Nate. She can't have gotten too far."

"It's been nine hours!"

"Yeah, but you know her. She'll pick a spot and watch the tourists, and then once the sun sets, she'll realize how long she's been there."

They fell quiet.

"Do you think she's doing something bad?" Nate asked softly.

"No," Jay murmured.

"It's the summer before her senior year. She's sixteen. She has nothing to do and nowhere to be. Do you think –"

"No," Jay interrupted firmly. "She's fine. We'll find her tomorrow. Who knows, she might just turn up. We might get up tomorrow and she'll be passed out on the couch."

There was silence again. Nate shifted from foot to foot and tugged on the strings of his sweatshirt, waiting for some sort of instruction from Jay.

"Come on," Jay said finally, sitting up on Zoey's bed. "We can't leave her out there alone."

Nate nodded curtly. "Take your car. I'll take my bike again."

"You sure?"

"We have a better shot if we split up. Are you sober enough?"

"Of course."

Nate gave him a look.

"I'm great," Jay remarked. He pushed himself up and headed to grab a long sleeve shirt off his desk chair. "Come on. We've gotta go get our girl."

* * *

Of course, Nate would only find Zoey after went to Jay for help. He texted Jay to let him know that he had eyes on her, but he watched her from a distance for a moment before he went up to her. It was always easy to read her emotions from her face. She didn't wear her heart on her sleeve, per se, but once you got to know her, she was like an open book. You just had to know what to look for.

Nate could tell, even from several feet away, that she was still upset. He texted Jay again saying he'd bring her home and not to worry about picking them up. It wasn't a far walk, maybe twelve or so minutes, and he knew that if she got in the car with both her brothers, she'd shut down. Keeping it quiet and calm was better.

He wheeled his bike over to her, his tennis shoes quiet in the sand. She was sitting back by the dunes with her knees pulled up to her chest, watching the tourists, just like Jay had said she would be. She jumped a little when she saw Nate approaching, and she quickly looked away. Nate set his bike down and took a seat a few feet away from her. They sat in silence for a minute or two before Nate broke it. "Hey," he murmured.

She shifted slightly, uneasy.

"Look, I know you want to be alone right now, but I've been looking for you for two hours."

His tone wasn't accusing, but she looked down at her feet anyway.

"I'm not – we're not mad at you, okay?" Nate continued. "Nobody's mad. We just wanted to make sure you're okay. It got really… out of hand earlier at the gym. I'm sorry."

"'s not your fault," she muttered. Her voice was broken.

Nate looked at her, his eyebrows slightly furrowed at the manifestation of her pain. Nate's was white hot, burning. Wild anger. Zoey's was different, though. It was navy. Dark, and personal, and it ate her alive. If you threw water on Nate's, it would sizzle and then burn out. Zoey's just needed time. Nothing could soothe the ache her father caused in her.

There was a long silence. The tourists were running about, even in the dark, and the water roared loud in their ears. Nate was trying to figure out what to say when Zoey slid across the sand and over to him. She leaned on his shoulder and crossed her arms over her chest. He tucked her head under his chin and stared out at the ocean.

The boys needed her. As much as she sometimes thought she didn't fit in with her family of fighters, the Kulinas all needed her to balance them out. She was the water to Nate's fire and Jay's air, but it was more than that. She cooked dinner on Wednesdays, kept up with the dishes, and she'd throw herself under the bus in a second to protect her brothers. She was wonderful at giving gifts and terrible at lying. To be honest, Nate wasn't sure what he'd do without her. He started to go crazy after a while when it was just Jay with him at the house. As much as he loved Jay, they needed Zoey there to make everything work. Nate couldn't talk to anybody but her, not about real stuff. When he was scared or sad or angry, Zoey knew before he even opened his mouth. He wanted to do the same for her, and that meant coming out here in the pitch-black night and finding her so she wasn't alone. He watched the waves ebb and flow on the shore as he comforted his sister in silence.

Yeah, Nate was a big, muscly fighter, sure, but that didn't mean that he wasn't scared to death of losing his family. Where he came from, family was everything, even with his dad the way he was. Nate made it work. They all did. And Zoey was part of that – a huge part of that.

He played the scene from the gym back in his head for the millionth time. Having fun with his siblings messing around in the cage. Sparring with Zoey for the first time in months. Hopping on top of Joe Daddy and having a chicken fight with Zoey, who was on Jay's shoulders. Zoey and Jay scaling the fence wall like monkeys, and Zoey making it to the top and dangling upside-down. Jay laughing, loud and long, as Nate cracked a deadpan joke. Dad storming in, shutting down all the fun, throwing a drink all over Jay, and kicking everybody out. Nate angrily biking home, slamming his door shut, and punching the doorframe as hard as he could.

Zoey sat up, bringing Nate out of his thoughts and back to the beach. Nate studied her and was glad to see that there were no traces of tears on her cheeks.

"Sorry, I'm just tired," she lied, knowing what her brother was doing. "It's fine."

Nate huffed, gently ruffling her hair. He stood and reached a hand down to his sister to pull her to her feet. They brushed themselves off and walked up the dunes to the pavement, where Nate got on his bike. Zoey climbed onto the back pegs and dug her fingers into his shoulders, and Nate pedaled back to the house.

Nate made sure to make a little extra noise as they approached the gate so Jay would hear them get home, but the oldest Kulina sibling was already sitting on the front step. He stood when they got close, and walked to meet Zoey. He pulled her into his arms, no banter or joking around. Nate propped his bike up against the far fence and slipped into the house to give them the illusion of privacy, but he stayed in the doorway to listen.

"I'm sorry," Zoey mumbled.

"No. Hey. Hey. What happened today was my fault. Okay? Not yours. Not Nate's. Mine. Dad didn't want me there, and I shouldn't have gone. That's it. He's not mad at you or Nate, he's mad at me."

"Why?"

"Cause I fuck everything up, that's why." Nate could hear a small smile in Jay's voice.

"That's not good enough," she decided, her voice unusually harsh.

"You know what happened," Jay said quietly. "I'd blow off fights 'cause of drugs. He kicked me out. He had every right to."

"Yeah, but you're good now! Why doesn't he –"

"Zo."

She sighed.

"I'm glad you're okay," Jay noted. "Just don't fucking do that again, okay? Let somebody know where you are." Nate peeked around the corner to see Jay smoothing Zoey's hair back from her face. Jay paused and looked at her closely. Of course, even in the darkness, Jay could tell how upset she was inside. He gave her another hug and kissed the top of her head. "We'll figure it out, yeah? It's gonna be fine. Now, go get some sleep, alright? It's late."

Nate heard them start walking to the door, so he disappeared into his room before either of them could see him standing there.

Everything went kind of normally after that. Jay was softly playing music in his room, and Zoey was in the shower, so Nate went and sat on the couch to play some video games. Pretty soon, Zoey went back to her room. A few minutes after her light switched off, Jay came out to sit on the couch with his brother.

"Thank you," Jay began quietly, "for looking for her."

"'s fine," Nate replied, keeping his eyes on the game.

"I'm gonna talk to her more about it tomorrow." Jay watched him play for a few moments before he added, "Look, I'm really sorry about what happened today. It was a stupid idea –"

"It was fun," Nate cut in.

Jay faltered. "What?"

"It was fun," Nate repeated. "Before Dad got there. It's cool when you guys come."

Jay couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "Okay," he grinned, and he clapped his little brother hard on the shoulder as he stood up. "Get some sleep soon, alright?"

Nate nodded.

"Love you," Jay called before he disappeared behind his bedroom door.

Nate fumbled with the game for a few more minutes, but he couldn't stay focused. He turned the console off and went back to his room. He stripped down to boxers and a white tank top before flopping down onto his bed and falling asleep in mere minutes on top of the covers. He welcomed a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Jay offered to make Nate breakfast, but the younger boy opted for only a smoothie. The day after was cut day – better known as hell – and Nate needed to lose fourteen more pounds. He didn't need bacon and pancakes setting him back before he even got started.

Nate went to the gym to do some last minute training with his dad and Ryan, and Jay spent all day drinking and getting high. Night fell quickly, and Nate was so anxious about the fight that 9pm found him lying on his bed in boxer briefs and a sweatshirt with headphones crooning sad music into his ears. He was drifting right on the edge of sleep when suddenly, a weight crashed on top of him. He opened his eyes to see breasts bouncing and dark hair flying.

Nate ripped his headphones off. "Go AWAY, Kacey!" he growled, shoving at her.

"No! Come on." Her voice was breathy as hell as she moaned on top of him, clad only in a red thong. "Seriously, please!"

Nate sat up, ready to argue with her, when the sound of gunshots came from just outside the house. Both Kacey and Nate froze, and then Nate was scrambling up, running like hell. Protect, his brain screeched. Nate rounded the corner and flew out the door, and his eyes landed on Jay. He was completely naked, firing round after round into the body bag they kept by the fence.

"JAY!" Nate shouted. "STOP! Put the fucking gun down!" He ran up to his brother and took him down from behind. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he hissed.

He had Jay in a chokehold for enough time for Kacey to take the gun from where Jay had dropped it. Jay was drunk as hell, laughing and spouting some nonsense about how the body bag was "fucking funny."

Kacey noticed the youngest Kulina silently watching her brothers from the doorway, and she raised a self-conscious arm to cover her naked breasts. Kacey may have been young, but Zoey was even younger. And judging by the smooth way Nate handled the situation, this wasn't the first time something like this had happened at the house. Kacey didn't want to make it worse.

"I was putting him out of his misery," Jay slurred, a wild smile on his face.

Nate let go of his brother, which prompted a huge gasp and a coughing fit from Jay, and stood. "I'm going to Dad's," he fumed, stalking past Kacey and his sister.

"Nate, come on," Jay garbled, still laughing slightly.

"You're such a fucking idiot," Kacey told Jay, her voice biting.

"Babyyyy," Jay replied. "Come over here."

Kacey stared at him a moment, her expression unreadable. "I gotta pee," she finally muttered, walking back into the house. Jay burst into another round of laughter.

Nate exited the house in sweats, his bike by his side.

"Nate," Jay begged. "Nate. Nate-Nate-Nate."

Nate ignored his brother and slammed the gate behind himself.

Zoey could hear sirens approaching, so she slipped through the house and out the back door. She didn't want to be here when the cops came; that would just get Jay in more trouble. She was still a minor, after all.

The only place for her to go was Dad's, too, but the last thing she wanted right then was to run into Nate on her way. She took her time walking slowly through the streets, but it seemed that Nate must have taken the long way to Dad's house, because he was in the kitchen talking to Alvey when Zoey got there, and it sounded like they'd just started.

"Nate. Come on. What the fuck's going on?" Alvey asked.

"Nothing," Nate growled. Zoey heard some shuffling, and then Nate candidly conceded. "Jay's pissed at you and he's being fucking idiot about it, that's what's going on," he seethed. Zoey leaned against the wall of the house, waiting in silence.

"What happened?"

"He got drunk off his ass and started firing his fucking gun. It's the middle of the night. Cops were coming."

"He has a gun?" Alvey asked, and Zoey could practically hear her father's eyebrows creasing together.

"He's always had a gun," Nate stated flatly.

"Hm," Alvey replied. "Where's your sister? Was she there?"

"Fuck, I don't know. She was there, yeah, but he didn't fucking shoot her. I'm sure she's fine. Everybody's fine. Can I go back to bed now?"

Zoey thought that was an interesting way to frame that question. Nate had been in his underwear with a nearly naked girl, and he was requesting to go back to bed?

"Yeah, okay," Alvey answered, but his tone let Zoey know that Nate had already walked past.

Zoey counted to thirty and then let herself in through the sliding glass door as quietly as she could.

"You okay?" Alvey asked from the kitchen table.

Zoey shut her eyes, swearing internally. She nodded and gave her dad a small smile.

"Nate said Jay went psycho again?" Alvey prompted, exaggerating fantastically on what Nate had actually said.

"He was drunk, that's all," Zoey said, always quick to defend Jay to her dad. "It's fine."

"It's fine, Jay's fine, I'm fine, everybody's fine," Alvey echoed, his voice rising slightly. "What is it with you and Nate lately, huh?"

Zoey shrugged noncommittally and left her dad behind with his wine. She treaded quietly up the stairs, not wanting to anger Nate any further. She didn't bother to turn on the light, just slipped off her shoes and climbed under the covers fully dressed.

She couldn't get the image of Jay lying naked in the dirt out of her head on her walk over, and she still couldn't now that she was in bed. He held the family together, but on the nights like tonight when he came apart in pieces… It angered Nate, but it scared Zoey to death. It frightened her to think that maybe Jay wasn't the rock she always used to see him as. He was just a person, just a kid still. Sure, he was 28 years old, but he'd never had a childhood. That's bound to fuck somebody up, even her hero of a big brother.

Zoey burrowed deeper under her blankets, trying to forget. She scratched hard at the inside of her wrist, trying to ground herself. Nearly an hour passed before she gave up and snuck down the hall to the bathroom to take her sharpest pair of scissors to her wrist. She watched the crimson blood bead up and run down her arm, and then she crept back to her room. The whole thing took less than three minutes. When she climbed back into her bed, it was almost immediately that sleep overtook her.


	3. Chapter 3

"You ready?" Ryan asked. Lisa watched Nate with wide eyes as Ryan started peeling duct tape off a roll.

"This. Too. Shall. Pass," Alvey declared, not waiting for Nate to answer.

Ryan set his phone in the speaker dock on the locker room shelf, and Alvey started spouting instructions. Nate focused on not letting his dread get the best of him as the music switched on. Joe Daddy and Ryan started covering Nate in multiple layers of clothes, a sauna suit, and duct tape. Joe Daddy tucked a beanie onto Nate's head, and Alvey tossed him a jump rope.

"It's fun time!"

* * *

When Zoey woke up, she found a note nudged under her door.

Sorry about last night, it read in Nate's skinny handwriting. Dad said you're here. Glad you're OK. Today's cut day so I'll be gone. Weigh-in's at Parkers at 8. Love you.

She read through it twice, and then pressed the paper to her chest. Nate was saying not to come to cut day (the one time Zoey had gone, she'd wound up so distressed and upset that Alvey told her to leave. She hated seeing her brothers worked to the point of exhaustion – just thinking about it made her nervous. It was almost 10am, which meant Nate had been working for at least three hours already. It was part of the job, yeah, but it was definitely her least favorite part. She could watch them pretty easily in the cage, but she couldn't handle cut day), but he wanted her at the weigh-in. He wouldn't have given her the location if he hadn't.

Since Dad, Lisa, and Nate were all at the gym, the house would be empty, which meant Zoey could do whatever she wanted. She started with a long, steamy shower in the master bathroom. She lightly scrubbed the dry blood off her wrist and then let herself use one of Lisa's fancy shampoos. Zoey usually washed her hair with the store brand stuff from Ralph's that Nate always kept in the shower, but she'd always secretly liked how the fancy ones smelled. Herbs instead of fruit, and thick instead of runny.

She cooked herself a late breakfast – bacon, pancakes, and scrambled eggs with cheese – and ate it slowly on the porch. Meanwhile, Jay was parked on the couch at the boys' house puffing on a joint. He had the gun in his lap – he'd found it where Kacey had left it on the counter – and started cooking his latest drug cocktail in a spoon. He shot up and slumped back on the sofa to let the high take over him. Within minutes, he was flying.

He started messing with the gun, pointing it as his reflection in the mirror across the room and then going so far as to put it in his mouth. He liked the feeling of it there, cold against his teeth and tongue. He could pull the trigger – he would have years ago if it weren't for Nate and Zoey. Maybe if Mom and Dad had been normal, Jay could have killed himself when he was sixteen like he wanted to. But maybe if even just one of them was normal, Jay wouldn't have wanted to kill himself at all.

Speaking of Mom – Jay needed to go see her again soon. It had been nearly a week.

* * *

"Enough," Alvey decided, and he and Ryan both reached for Nate. The kid looked like he was on the brink of passing out, and his coaches dragged him out of the sauna, half-carrying him. His breath was coming in gasps, but Alvey was calm. "We got you," he murmured. "We got you."

"Cold towel!" Ryan called. Then to Nate, quieter, "Short breath in, long breath out. Short breath in, long breath out, you got it."

Nate collapsed down on the bench, and he was sure he'd never been more exhausted in his life, not ever. His mouth had fallen open from exertion, and he was practically limp against his dad, who was keeping an arm around him to prop him up. Nate weakly reached up to claw at the sauna suit, but Alvey batted his hand away. "Leave it on," he instructed, pulling Nate tighter to his side.

Ryan crouched in front of Nate and cracked open a water bottle. "Breathe," he said slowly.

"Leave it on," Alvey repeated, "you're alright. You're alright, you're alright."

Nate wasn't taking in any of what his coaches were saying, not really even hearing them. He needed air, needed water. Needed to slow the fuck down. He'd nearly fallen off an elliptical in the sauna when they'd called it quits. His dad always pushed his fighters, but he was comfortable pushing Nate to his absolute limits. (Nate knew he would thank Alvey for it later.)

Nate swallowed the water Ryan put in his hand even though they both knew he was going to vomit it up in a matter of minutes. God, he'd better make weight tonight.

* * *

Around 7 that night, Zoey was starting to get ready for Nate's weigh-in when she realized she'd left her make-up at Jay's. She wasn't even into makeup, so normally it wouldn't matter, but it was important at any MMA events that she looked good. The press that kept up with her family knew who she was, and if they were desperate enough, they'd pull her for an interview. That wasn't the reason she needed her makeup, though – the MMA industry was held up by sexy women. Yeah, they needed buff fighters, but according to the fans, the women there to be enjoyed were almost as important as the fighting.

Zoey hated to admit it, but it did matter to her what she looked like in comparison to the other girls at the fights. That was the only thing that sucked about going – she was demoted from "human being" to "eye candy." Jay sometimes called her "Jailbait" when they were at fights because she'd wind up with so many grown men ogling her.

She listened to her headphones while she walked, aware that she was going to make her transformation tomorrow into the jailbait girl, but that for now, she was free to be anyone. She pushed through the gate, hoping to see Jay more normal compared to how he was when she left – stoned out of his mind and drunk as hell – but she was in for a surprise.

She walked in and immediately saw Jay passed out on the couch with the gun on his lap and a needle sticking out of his arm. She took a few quick steps backwards, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. She knew Jay was using – it felt like she'd always known that – but he was very careful never to let her see any physical proof. Now that it was out in front of her, she saw just how gruesome it was.

Had someone asked her about it in advance, she would have guessed seeing him like this would bother her a little, but she didn't expect such a huge gut reaction from herself. She pulled her headphones off and set them on the coffee table, careful to avoid the burnt spoon and a picture she'd never seen of Jay and a dark haired woman. Judging by the way Jay looked, the photo hadn't been taken too long ago. She made a mental note to look at it again later, but for now, her brother was her only priority.

"Jay?" she asked, holding her breath.

No response.

"Jay, hey. Wake up."

She moved around to his other side to avoid the needle and started shaking his shoulder. "Jay, wake up. Come on. Please wake up."

She went to move the gun off his lap, and she realized her hands were shaking. All she wanted in that moment was Nate. Nate would know what to do. He never took any of Jay's bullshit, and this was something he would be able to fix. Right?

She dialed him and started pacing across the floor. She shook her free hand out in front of her, trying to regain control of her body. "Come on, come on, pick up," she muttered to herself. She kept glancing back at Jay in hopes that he'd wake up, but his eyes stayed shut.

Nate's automated voicemail started playing, and Zoey quickly hung up and hit "redial." Still no answer. Time for plan B.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dad," she greeted, trying to sound cheerful.

"What's going on? I can't really talk right now."

"I, uh, I need to talk to Nate. He's not answering his phone."

"He's in the shower. And he's busy today, you know that. Can we do this later?" Alvey asked.

Zoey bit her lip, desperate tears welling up in her eyes. "Okay, um…" She bounced a little, squeezing her eyes shut. "Okay, never mind!" she chirped.

"Zoey –"

But she was already hanging up. A breathy sob shook through her chest, deep and long, and she leaned forward with her hands on her knees. She counted to five like she and Nate had learned watching Lost and then returned to her brother's side.

"You have to wake up, and you have to do it now," she instructed. "Please, Jay, come on. It's not funny!" She shook him again, hard this time, and still nothing happened. Zoey started crying a little bit then, fear taking over. "Jay, wake up!"

She had one more shot at help, and if that fell through, she didn't know what she was going to do. She reached for Jay's phone on the coffee table and scrolled through til she found the number she was looking for. She pressed call and held her breath. After a few rings, a familiar voice filled her ear.

"Hey, asshole."

"Lisa, it's Zee," she corrected, her voice wobbling.

"Whoa, hey, sweetie, I'm sorry. Are – are you okay?"

"Please don't let my dad know I'm on the phone," Zoey rushed out.

"Okay, hold on," Lisa said, her voice gentle. "Hold on." Zoey heard the sounds of the gym fade to nothing, and then Lisa said, "Okay, tell me what happened. Where are you? Do you need me to come get you?"

"No, I – I didn't do anything, it's Jay," she explained desperately. "I can't get him to wake up, and he's got a needle in his arm, and I've never – please, you gotta come help me. I don't know what to do."

"Give me five minutes. I'll be right there," Lisa assured. "Hang in there."

True to her word, it took Lisa exactly five minutes to get to the Kulina residence. She came in without knocking, but Zoey didn't care. There was no time for formalities.

"Is he breathing?" Lisa inquired calmly, setting her purse down on the floor next to the couch.

"I think so. I don't know," Zoey responded frantically. She cringed as Lisa reached across Jay and gently tugged the needle out of his arm.

"Here, can you throw this away?" Lisa asked, handing Zoey the syringe. "Put it in a bag and don't touch the end of it."

Zoey took it, glad to be doing something. Lisa went to work digging another syringe out of her purse. Zoey felt another twinge of fear, but she didn't question it as Lisa pressed down on a section of skin under Jay's makeshift tourniquet and slid another needle into him.

It only took a few seconds for Lisa to inject whatever it was, but to Zoey, it felt like forever. She watched, paralyzed, as Lisa pressed two fingers to the underside of her brother's jaw.

"I found a pulse," Lisa called, her voice still unruffled.

"Oh, thank god," Zoey exhaled, taking a moment to lean against the kitchen counter before she walked back over.

Lisa rubbed her knuckles hard on the middle of Jay's chest. His eyes fluttered, and his breathing changed slightly. "Good," Lisa breathed. "Jay, you can wake up now," she said gently. "It's okay now. You're okay."

Zoey felt like she was going to collapse, so she stumbled into the armchair next to Jay. Lisa was immediately at her side, reaching for her. "It's okay, it's okay," she soothed, rubbing Zoey's back. There were hot tears swimming in Zoey's eyes, but she refused to let them spill over. "He's gonna be okay, Zee," Lisa murmured evenly. "You did good. You did so good."

"Nobody would help me," Zoey whispered into Lisa's shoulder. "Nate didn't answer his phone and my dad said he was too busy and – I'm so glad you came."

Lisa squeezed her tighter and ran a hand over the younger girl's hair. She was about to speak when Jay gave a soft cough. His eyes opened, and he took in the sight of Lisa in his house and then his gaze shifted to his little sister's worried face. Lisa let go of Zoey in order to sit next to Jay.

"You're really high," Lisa explained to Jay, "and you ODed. But you're alive."

"I'm alive," Jay repeated quietly, his voice nearly unrecognizable.

"Yeah, you fucker," Lisa nodded. "Do you feel okay?"

He made a garbled sound, but Lisa took it as a good sign. "The weigh-in's in less than an hour," she reminded Zoey. "You need to go get ready."

"I can't leave him," Zoey said, shaking her head.

"Yes, you can. I'll stay here. He'll be fine."

Zoey gave her a hesitant look.

"He'll be fine, Zee. Go get dressed, okay?"

"Isn't my dad gonna want you there?"

Lisa chuckled. "He's a big boy, he can handle it. This is really important to Nate, and I know you know that. Be there for him. Let me take care of Jay."

Zoey turned on her heel and walked into the bathroom. She leaned on the counter and took some deep breaths before crouching down to get her makeup bag out of the cabinet. She took her time applying her lip gloss, because she knew that once she started on the eyes, there was no crying allowed. A few more deep breaths and then it was time for black eyeliner. She was always careful to keep herself from looking like a raccoon, but it was hard to tell in the low light of the bathroom what would look acceptable in broad daylight. Less is more, right? She dug to the bottom of her bag for her waterproof mascara – just in case. Then it was into her room for the Navy Street racerback she kept there and back out to check on Lisa and Jay.

"Do I look alright?" Zoey asked hesitantly.

"You look beautiful," Lisa answered, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"Beautiful," Jay echoed tiredly.

His voice sent a pang straight to Zoey's heart, and she leaned down to kiss his temple. "I love you," she said, trying to smile. "Be good for Lisa, okay?"

Jay nodded distractedly, and Zoey shot a glance at Lisa.

"I got him," Lisa reassured her.

"Thank you," Zoey mouthed as she walked toward the door. She stepped outside into the heat and was immediately thankful for California's ever-present sunshine. The warmth made her feel less alone.

It was a twenty minute walk to Parker's Plaza for the weigh-in. Zoey got there with five minutes to spare, but the next issue was locating her family. She didn't have any passes to get back to the locker room, and she'd texted Alvey on the way over, but she hadn't heard anything back.

"Zee!" a voice called, and she turned around to see Joe Daddy waiting for her.

"Hey," she said gratefully, following him back to the room. "Is he gonna make it?" she asked.

"Man, I hope so. Alvey'll kill him if he doesn't. But he worked hard today, should be okay."

Nate nodded at his sister when she crossed through the door. Zoey couldn't ask any more of her brother – he was always crazy-anxious before his events, even the small ones like this. She smiled back.

"Oh, my god! Is that Little Zee?!"

Zoey whirled around. "Ryan?!" she asked, her mouth falling open in disbelief.

Ryan crossed the room quickly, lifted the youngest Kulina up, and spun her around. The pair laughed as they pulled apart.

"How old are you now, 25?" Ryan joked, looking down at Alvey's daughter. "Oh my god, you're beautiful." The words spilled out before he could stop himself. He hadn't seen the girl since she was 12. She'd gotten a little taller, and her face looked older. Her awkward, bony elbows and knees had filled in, and her hips and thighs had rounded out. She looked good.

"Thanks," she laughed. "I'm sixteen."

"So don't go getting any ideas!" Alvey warned.

Zoey rolled her eyes. "How are you?" she asked Ryan, ignoring her dad. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he replied, ducking his head and tucking his hands into his pockets.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, her face light with happiness. She reached out and whacked his arm for good measure.

"I'm working for your dad now," he said. "Did nobody tell you?"

Her smile faltered a bit. "That's so great! Welcome back."

"Thanks."

"Nobody calls her "Little Zee" anymore," Alvey added.

"I do, if that's okay," Ryan said, looking to Zoey for permission. She nodded. Truth be told, part of her missed the nickname. She was looking forward to having Ryan back around.

"Alright, everybody ready?" Alvey called. "Sounds like they just finished the featherweights. Nate's up next. Let's go."

The Kulinas heard the echo of Clint Walker's weigh-in results as they walked; 154.5 pounds. "And his opponent, ladies and gentlemen, now coming to the scales, here! Is Nate! Kulina!"

Nate walked up to the podium and peeled off his shirt. Ryan unfolded a white towel and held it in front of Nate so he could remove the rest of his clothes. Alvey stared anxiously at the numbers on the scale while Joe Daddy and Zoey stood back, waiting to hear the verdict.

"Aaaand Mr. Kulina weighs in at…"

Nate and Zoey both held their breath.

"Right on the money, ladies and gentlemen! One hundred and fifty-five pounds!"

Nate flexed his muscles. His biceps were nearly the size of his head now, which made Zoey laugh a little. He would always be her shy, dorky big brother, no matter what he looked like to the public.

Nate pulled his shorts back on and took the partially-frozen water bottle Alvey handed him, allowing himself a long gulp.

"Let's give it up for these two warriors," the announcer said as Nate and Clint Walker went up to each other and held up their fists. Walker made a move toward Nate and then eyed Zoey suggestively. Nate didn't like that, not one bit. His back muscles rippled, and his eyes were hard. He wanted to fight the motherfucker right then.

Ryan tossed Nate the towel, snapping him out of his thoughts. Nate draped the towel over his shoulders and headed back down the steps. He put his arm protectively around an oblivious Zoey the second he got to her. Walker grinned wolfishly at the Navy Street team as they walked out of the park together.

* * *

Later that night, Jay was doing alright, so Lisa came home to cook. Zoey, Nate, and Alvey were together for their weekly Friday dinner, but tonight, Lisa excused herself early to take a shower. Nate and Zoey anxiously watched her leave. When Lisa wasn't there, Alvey could say anything with no consequences.

"You nervous?" he asked Nate.

Nate sloshed the water around in his glass. "Yeah," he admitted. "What if I lose?"

Alvey chewed his salad thoughtfully. "You won't lose," Alvey answered, so quietly that Zoey almost didn't hear it.

"But what if I do?" Nate pressed. "What if he catches me when I'm gassed? Anything could happen. Then what?" His voice was hard, and he wasn't backing down.

"Then nothing," Alvey responded calmly, taking another bite of salad. "You're gonna kill this guy, trust me."

Nate's eyes flicked to Zoey and back to his father.

"Nate," Alvey said, cutting a bite of chicken. "Listen to me," he began, and he reached for Nate's wrist. Big mistake. Zoey could see it before it even happened.

The instant Alvey made contact with Nate's arm, Nate was out of his chair, plate shattering on the ground. Zoey flinched, but Alvey was unshaken. Nate reached for the bread plate to start cleaning up the mess he'd reflexively made, but Alvey had other plans.

"Leave it, leave it, leave it," Alvey directed. His voice was firm, but not angry. This was what Alvey needed – something to trigger a breakthrough with his kids, at least one of them. He needed something to grab onto so he could reel them back in before he lost all three of them completely. "Leave it," he insisted, "and calm down."

Nate ignored him and continued to clean up the mess.

"LEAVE IT ALONE," Alvey ordered, his voice rising sharply.

"You should let Jay train again," Nate snapped, finally making eye contact with his father.

"Jay? That's what – this is about your brother?" Alvey asked incredulously.

"Yes, that's what this is about!" Nate had lost his cool, and Zoey could see it. She kept her gaze trained down on the table.

"It's better when he's there," Nate pushed. "It's better for him, and it's better for me."

"Forget about Jay! He made his choice."

Zoey dug her nails into the palm of her hand. It was so loud, so loud…

"Put my dish down," Alvey commanded Nate. "Listen to me. Get your fucking head straight, cause you've got a fight to think about. Forget about your brother."

"Can't you just talk to him!" Nate yelled, and he smashed the plate he had left. Alvey was getting valuable information – it was just a matter of keeping his composure. "Just talk to him!" Nate was panting. "He's your own son, and you can't even fucking talk to him."

Zoey could see from her peripherals that Nate was getting dangerously close to Alvey now. She started holding her breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion. She'd seen enough with Jay's fights with Dad to know what was coming next.

"You're a fucking –" Nate began, but Alvey cut him off. In less than a second, he was on his feet, grabbing Nate by the neck, and slamming him up against the wall.

"Get out of my fucking face!" he growled. "Are you out of your fucking mind! Get out of my face," Alvey repeated, getting right in Nate's. "You wanna be a tough guy? Huh? You wanna be a tough guy?" Alvey provoked.

Nate stonily turned his head to the side.

"You have no idea what a tough guy is." Alvey shoved his son away by the chin.

Nate exhaled heavily, staring his father down.

"Get out," Alvey demanded. "You break my dish? Get out! Go. You animal. Get out, before she comes down. Get out."

Nate walked out the door and noticed Zoey several yards in front of him making her escape as well. She must have left just before Nate stormed out. Normally, he would have let her go, but not today. "Zebra!" he called, but she didn't hear. "Hey, Zee!"

She turned, wide-eyed, and stopped in her tracks. She waited for Nate to catch up to her.

"I didn't really eat anything," he said quietly, stopping next to her and sliding his hands into his sweatshirt pocket. He was prepared to make an offering, an apology, for losing it in front of her. "You wanna stop for an ice cream cone? My treat."

She wrapped her arms around her middle, weighing her brother's suggestion against what she'd just seen. His anger inside had terrified her, but his eyes were kind again. After a moment, she nodded, and they walked side by side to their favorite stand, just outside Pacific Park. Nate paid for two vanilla ice cream cones, and the siblings headed down to the beach to talk things out.

They were silent for a few minutes. Zoey watched the Ferris wheel until it stopped turning, and then she turned to face the ocean. "Do you ever just want to run away?" she asked softly.

Nate shrugged. "Sometimes."

"I do every day. I fucking hate this place. I hate Dad. I hate Jay right now."

Nate nodded, thinking Zoey was mad because of the incident with the gun the night before. He didn't even know she'd gone back to the house that day, and Zoey wanted to keep it that way, at least for now. She didn't want to give him any more shit to worry about before his fight.

"Are you okay?" she asked carefully. She watched as Nate made a face. It read yes, but his eyes screamed no. "I get that," she responded softly.

For a moment, there was no sound between them. The ocean roared loud in their ears, but the beach felt quiet anyway.

"I'm glad I have you," Zoey murmured.

Nate looked over at his sister, really looked at her. Her faded makeup was smudging a little, but that didn't hide from him how exhausted she looked. Her hair was starting to wave from the evening humidity, and he'd noticed for the first time that she'd grown it out a little.

She saw him looking and gave him a small smile. He nudged her with his shoulder, and they both went back to their ice cream. It was nice to sit quietly with her like this. It always was, but after his loud fight with Dad, it felt even better than usual to be calm on the beach next to his best friend.

"Hey, did something happen to you last night?" he inquired around a bite of crunchy cone.

Zoey cocked her head to the side. "No?"

"I woke up like an hour after I got to Dad's, and I had this weird feeling."

"Mm, no, I don't know. I just went to sleep," she lied.

Nate studied her face, but didn't respond. Their "twin thing," as Jay called it, was never wrong. He didn't like her lying to him, but he wasn't going to call her on it today. "Would you really run away?" he asked, trying not to let his concern bleed into his voice.

Zoey wiped her now-empty hands on the napkins she'd grabbed from the ice cream cart and made her voice as light as she could. "I don't know. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Zoey."

She looked up at him. It had been weeks – maybe months – since he'd used her full first name. "Yeah?"

"What's so bad?"

She reached down for her toes. "Nate…"

"I'm not gonna tell anybody. I just wanna know. I mean you're almost done with school, so-"

"A year is a long time," she interrupted softly.

Nate nodded slowly.

"Look, there's nothing for me here, okay? Nothing except you and Jay, anyway. You have fighting and Dad, and Jay has the house and easy access to drugs, but not me. I have school, but honestly, fuck school. I hate it. I don't have any real friends there, and it's boring as shit. I don't even know where I live anymore, because my whole life is like a ping pong tournament. I stay at Dad's 'til I get mad at him, and then I stay with you and Jay until something happens that makes me go back to Dad's, and then I leave Dad's again when he pisses me off. I'm fucking sick of it."

"That's why you went to the beach the other day?"

"Yeah. I didn't know where else to go. I want…" she trailed off.

"You want what?"

Zoey shook her head. "You won't like it," she mumbled.

"Try me."

"I…" She swallowed nervously. "I want a mom, okay? And I want a dad. Not Alvey, not Jay. A real dad that likes me and wants to be around me and is actually interested in me. And I need a mom, Nate. I really, really need a mom. And a home. I don't have that anymore, either. I know I sound so stupid and selfish complaining about stuff I have, but it's – none of it's mine. Not really. Not anymore."

She could practically feel the gears in her brother's head turning as he tried to decide what to respond to first.

"Dad loves you."

Zoey snorted. "Maybe. But he certainly doesn't care about me. I mean, when was the last time you heard him speak to me? Think about it."

Nate thought back to dinner – not a single exchange between the two of them. Earlier that day, Alvey had spoken to Ryan about Zoey, but not said any actual words to Zoey. He hadn't acknowledged her when they got in trouble at the gym, either.

"Fuck," Nate swore softly.

"Yeah."

"I get the bouncing between houses thing," he said, moving on. "I did it too, remember? We used to do it together."

"Yeah, I remember." Zoey laid back on the sand, not caring that it would get in her hair.

"And Mom… I thought you were okay without her," Nate said, referencing a conversation they'd had a few years back.

"I lied," Zoey admitted. "I mean, there are days when I don't care. My whole life I've been around guys, anyway, so I feel like I don't really know what I'm missing. But every time some kid at school says something mean about their mom and how annoying she is because she leaves notes in their lunchbox or something, it just – it kills me. It always has. Why is it always that the kids that are the meanest have it the easiest?"

Nate laid down next to her and folded his hands over his stomach. "Those of us that had a harder time growing up know the value of kindness," he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Zoey turned her head to look at her brother. Sometimes he said things that blew her mind.

Several silent minutes passed as they each lost themselves in thought.

"We should go home," she finally said.

"Which home?" he asked with a sad smile.

Zoey shut her eyes. "I don't know."


	4. Chapter 4

"COVER YOUR TITTIES! HERE I COME!" Ryan flung Jay's bedroom door open and watched his disoriented friend blink awake. "Aww, he's alone!" he announced with a laugh, crashing on top of Jay and wrapping his arms around him. "Perfect!"

"Wheeler!" Jay groaned, trying to scramble away, but Ryan's hold was too tight.

"Ah, there's my beautiful pet, come here. Good morning."

"How are you?" Jay asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Get off me."

"Here, can I show you something I learned in prison? You'll love this," Ryan grinned. He grabbed Jay even tighter and started thrusting his hips into him from behind.

"Get off me, get off," Jay repeated, unfazed.

"Mmm, you love this."

"How'd you get in here?" Jay asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"Door was wide open," Ryan explained, and he let go of Jay's hips in order to grab at his face. He picked Jay's head up out of the darkness, squished his lips, and planted two quick kisses on his temple. "Rise and shine! How's that sunlight, man?"

"Oh, please. Oh, my god," Jay moaned.

Ryan laughed and climbed off Jay's bed.

"What time is it?" Jay mumbled.

"Early, let's eat!" Ryan replied, yanking the cheap comforter off the bed and leaving Jay lying there in sweats.

"What are you gonna get for me?"

"We," Ryan corrected, "are gonna get. Come on."

"My choice," Jay demanded. "You're paying."

"Get the fuck up!"

"Come on, convict. Help me up."

Ryan huffed a laugh and his hand out. Jay took it and pulled hard on Ryan's arm to get him down onto the bed. He launched on top of Ryan and started humping him hard. "Mmmm, Daddy like!" he crowed.

* * *

Jay and Ryan soon found themselves with burritos in their old meeting spot. They used to frequent the abandoned lifeguard tower until Ryan got convicted, and Jay hadn't really been back. But it was nice, after all this time. Like revisiting a memory.

"So what is it with you and your dad?" Ryan finally asked. He was settled in the shade, but Jay opted for the sun.

"He's a fucking hypocrite," Jay replied as Ryan chewed. "I mean, nobody put more shit up his nose than my old man." Jay took a huge bite of his burrito and talked right through it. "He'd eat the asshole out of a fucking mule if he thought it was gonna get him high."

Ryan gave a small smirk.

"Right now, he's coming at Nate, and he's like, 'I'm gonna take care of you, I'm your dad.' Okay. Bullshit. I mean, where the fuck have you been?" Jay couldn't look at Ryan anymore, so he turned his eyes toward the ocean. "I've been looking after those kids since I was fifteen years old."

"Yeah, he's made some mistakes, but at least he's trying now, right?"

"That's what's so funny. He's got his pills and his shrink, and he's walking around preaching, telling everybody what to do. Course, he doesn't make any apologies for my mom or fuckin' – anything."

"No disrespect, man," Ryan began, and Jay already knew where he was going, "but you're mom's strung out. That's not your dad's fault."

Jay flashed his eyes at the sky. "Because he fucked with her head, man," he explained slowly. "Disappearing with other bitches, treating her like shit… dude, I watched it happen – she wasn't always like that. She wasn't like that when we were kids."

Ryan watched Jay douse his burrito with hot sauce, a sad look on his face. He could tell Jay had missed him, knew Jay hadn't talked to anybody else about this while Ryan was gone. Five years is a long time to keep everything to yourself, and Jay… Jay had a lot of shit to keep quiet.

"Boy," Jay started, a dangerous smile on his face, "I don't know why you're defending him. I would fuck his ass up. Stealing my girl while I'm in jail jerkin' off in some fuckin' dude's mouth..."

"No no no no no. Dude, shut the fuck up," Ryan warned, talking over him.

Jay took a long swig of his drink.

"No, man. That's on me. Hey. That's on me," he repeated as Jay dug a cigarette out of his pocket. "I put myself in prison, nobody else."

"Okay," Jay agreed, cig between his teeth. "Still, you know. It's fucked up. Lisa's dope, dude."

"You got no idea how small your world can become," Ryan mused quietly.

Jay looked at his friend, not sure what he was trying to say. "I like my world." Jay stood as he spoke and looked out at the beach. He slid his sunglasses on. "Look at my world. I do whatever I want to whoever I want whenever I want…" He took a drag. "My world's the shit, bro."

Ryan didn't crack a smile. "When's the last time you fought?"

"I don't know," Jay replied easily.

"Over a year's what your dad said."

"Okay. So what? Who gives a shit?"

"You know, listen," Ryan said, finally getting real. "You don't do anything else. The one thing that you're fucking good at is fighting, and that's... You're not even doing that." He shook his head slightly. "At a certain point, you're just a broke motherfucker with some faded tattoos."

Jay took another bite of the burrito and tried to focus on the wind. "Who fucked the fun outta you there in prison, huh?"

"You're angry, man. I fucking get it. Just… don't set yourself on fire like I did."

"I should be so lucky," Jay replied, forcing his signature smile back onto his face. "At least you got paid!"

"Yeah, now I live in a shitbox with a roommate who's on probation for rubbing his dick on the avocados at Albertson's. "

"What?!" Jay asked incredulously, unable to keep a laugh from bubbling out.

"There's a fucking curfew, man. I can't even make it to Nate's fight." He looked up at Jay, who had an unreadable look on his face. "You're gonna fucking be there," Ryan demanded. When Jay didn't say anything, Ryan repeated, "You're going to the fight."

"It's not about Nate," Jay attempted, "and he knows that."

"It is about fucking Nate. He's the one fighting."

Jay groaned in concession. "Ohhhh, boy."

* * *

Saturday night found the Navy Street family on a red carpet in front of a wall of flashing lights. Zoey always thought it was funny that so much press showed up when less than half of California even knew MMA fights existed, but here they were. The paps were bossy like always, directing loudly and screaming for attention, and Zoey was relieved when she and her family got to the end of the carpet.

She was blinking hard, trying to get the glare out of her eyes, when a cameraman and an interviewer approached her. "Hi, sweetie," the guy said. "Can we talk to you for a minute?"

Zoey gave him a sweet smile. "Of course!" This was what she was here for. Eye candy. Talk to all the ditzy girls, right? Not Zoey. No way. She was a fire tongue.

"What's your name, baby?"

"Zoey."

The camera guy gave a countdown, and then the interviewer was off. "I'm Marcus Wilder here in Long Beach, the heart of California's mixed martial arts scene. This is my new friend Zoey! How you doing, Zoey?"

"I'm great," she smiled.

"Awesome! Well, what brings you out here tonight?"

"I'm ready to see some fighting," she replied.

"Ooh, you like the fights?" Here comes the girls-can't-like-fighting shit. And every time, she thinks they're actually going to treat her like a person instead of a doll.

"Yeah. I was kinda raised on them. I've been coming to fights my whole life." How did he think she got onto the red carpet? Fucking idiot.

"Impressive," Wilder grinned. "Who's your favorite fighter here tonight?"

"Nate Kulina."

"Yeah, he's pretty cute, huh?"

Zoey forced a smile to keep herself from rolling her eyes. "I think he's an incredible fighter. He's got a great work ethic and strong boxing skills, and he came ready to kill Walker."

"Wow!" The interviewer was clearly impressed with Zoey's knowledge of Nate. "You really do watch the fights, huh? Maybe Kulina will have a new girl by the end of the night."

Zoey let out a laugh at that one. "That's funny," she smiled, ready to reveal herself.

"Yeah?" the guy prompted, basking in the feeling of her laughing at his joke.

"Well, yeah. Considering he's my brother."

"W-what?" the interviewer stumbled. "Seriously?"

"I'm Zoey Kulina. Alvey's my dad. Nate's my brother."

"Oh – wow! Okay! Well, that's all for right now, thank you so much."

"No problem." Zoey smiled to herself as she was quickly abandoned. She stepped to the side and waited for her family to wrap up their interviews.

"What was that about?" Nate asked when he got over to her a few minutes later. They both watched Alvey talking to a woman in a red dress. Or rather, talking to her boobs. Have some class, Dad.

"Oh, the usual. Girls can't like fights, girls only watch MMA to pick up guys …"

"Did they ask again if we were dating?"

"He implied that you'd be leaving with a girlfriend tonight."

Nate looked at his sister, confused.

"Me," she elaborated, and he almost cracked a smile. "Shut up, it's funny," she said, whacking him lightly across the stomach.

He gave her shoulder a shove and then asked, "Did they know who you were?" He secretly admired his sister's snark. Good for her, standing up for herself. Jay taught her well.

"Oh, I told them."

"And?"

"And he walked away." She sighed. "Typical."

Nate snorted.

"My god, he was so awkward! You'd think they'd just let anybody on the carpet based on these people's reactions. I seriously think they let any press out here. Jesus, do your research."

"Shh," Nate cautioned.

"Oh, let them hear me. I don't give a fuck."

"I know you don't, but Dad does." And so do I, he thought. Tonight was supposed to be about him, not his little sister. And yeah, he was proud of her, but sometimes bringing her out for interviews made for bad press. She was a firecracker, and the men watching didn't like that.

"Alright, we done?" Alvey asked as he walked up to his kids.

Nate nodded.

"Good. We gotta get going."

* * *

By the time Jay found his way to the holding room, Nate was mostly warmed up. Lisa was perched on a table looking like some sort of rainforest bird, dolled up in all the wrong ways. Her hair was teased on top of her head, she had on a strange shade of lipstick, and she was wearing some sort of purple thing. Zoey was leaning on the opposite wall with her ankles crossed, talking to Joe Daddy. She gave him a long stare when she saw him but turned her back after a moment. She was clad in a modest black dress that puffed out at the skirt, and her hair was in loose curls. In Jay's opinion, she had on too-high heels and an awful lot of makeup, but logically, he knew it would look good on camera. Nate had on a backwards Navy Street hat and some pre wrap, and he was sparring lightly with Alvey.

Lisa gave Jay a small, approving smile, and Joe Daddy moved to quietly greet him. Nate stared at his brother, eyes slightly widened, waiting for a reaction from his father. Both Kulina boys were shocked when their father wordlessly stepped out of the way to let Jay cut in.

Alvey reached out to slap Jay's hand – his form of an apology – and then instructed, "Come on, keep moving."

Nate couldn't keep the smile off his face as Jay pulled him in for a hug.

"You look fuckin' good, kid," the older boy murmured, his eyes dancing wildly. Nate adjusted his hat, and they were off, picking up right where Alvey had bowed out.

Zoey migrated across the room to stand with Lisa and her dad. Lisa squeezed Alvey's daughter to her side and left a hand on her upper back. It seemed odd to Alvey that Zoey was allowing Lisa to show affection, especially in the form of touch, but he welcomed the warmth between the two. Zoey had been passively resentful to Lisa in the past, even more than Nate, and Alvey hadn't really known what to do. This was a good change.

"Baby," Alvey said, and both Lisa and Zoey turned to him. Alvey gave Zoey an odd look when he noticed she'd responded to the term of endearment, but he swiftly shifted his attention back to Lisa. Shame coursed through Zoey's veins as she realized Alvey had been speaking to his girlfriend and not her. Her dad had just patched things up with Jay – why not her as well?

She tried to keep her stomach from sinking, for Nate's sake, but she couldn't. "I'm gonna go change," she murmured. She wanted to be alone, so she grabbed her bag and casually exited the back door to locate a bathroom. The unfamiliar building was like a maze, with echoing stairwells and identical hallways on every floor. Zoey knew before she got far that she was sure to get lost.

She walked up a floor and found a private restroom in the second hallway she wound down. She dropped her duffle and leaned on the sink, eyes squeezed shut, letting herself feel the pain and embarrassment she'd tried to shut out downstairs.

It stung, the way her dad totally ignored her in favor of Nate and Lisa. Jay was cast out just like she was, but at least he'd done something to cause it. Zoey had always been sweet and good, but her father just wasn't interested in her. He never had been. In the last few years, she'd started to wonder whether he'd regretting having her, and now that she was older, she was more than positive that her conception had been an accident. And more, that Alvey saw it – saw her – as a mistake. No wonder he left her. No wonder he never loved her.

Zoey took her time changing her clothes and trying to bury her feelings. She looked like a clown now that she was in her normal clothes with makeup for TV, so she wet a paper towel and started smearing off her lipstick and eyeliner. It took several tries and multiple paper towels to get everything off, but she managed.

She swallowed hard at her reflection and dug through her clutch for her brown eye pencil. She drew a lighter, more modest ring around her eyes, pulled her curls into a ponytail, and left to find her way back down to the holding room. She managed to locate the door that led to the correct stairwell, but what she didn't expect to find was Clint Walker standing on the other side. He was clad in a Venum t-shirt and black shorts, and he froze when his eyes landed on her. A cocky grin spread over his face.

"You're Kulina's girl," he said, his voice like a growl.

"Sister," Zoey corrected. Normally, she wasn't very intimidated by Nate's opponents, but this guy… He was looking at her wrong, and it made her uneasy.

"Even better," Walker whispered, forcing his way into Zoey's personal space. "I'll be seeing you later, babe." He winked at her as he stepped back, and it wasn't friendly.

Zoey watched him walk past and then slid through the door and down the stairs as quickly as she could. That was weird.

It took her a few tries to find the correct room. When she got back, Nate was sparring with Joe Daddy, and Alvey was hovering over them. Zoey walked over to Jay, who was now sitting on the table with Lisa. Jay didn't say anything, just watched her expression, looking for any clue as to what she was thinking or how she was feeling.

She reached forward and wrapped her arms around Jay's neck. He caught her and pulled her close. "Don't ever fucking do that again," Zoey demanded in his ear. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I know," Jay whispered.

"I mean it," she hissed, pulling away to look at his face. "I thought you were fucking dead."

Jay looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry."

Zoey stared at her brother a moment, and then sighed. "Okay."

Lisa reached out and squeezed Zoey's hand, but it was back to coldness from Alvey's daughter. She kept her hand limp so it was easy to slip out Lisa's grasp, and then she went and stood on her own at the wall until a man with a clipboard knocked on the door. "You're on deck," he stated, and promptly left.

"Alright," Alvey declared. "Let's go."

* * *

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Long Beach, California! This is the main event of the evening." The announcer's voice buzzed loudly through the speakers.

Nate was so ready to get in the cage that his blood felt like electricity pumping through his veins. He was surrounded by his family as he walked briskly through the arena, and it wasn't lost on Nate that they had dropped all their differences to be there for him. Nate could feel his father behind him, hands tight on his shoulders, and he had a sibling – best friend – on each side. Everyone was screaming for him as he sped ahead and tore off his shirt.

"Bring it in, bring it in, bring it in," Alvey ordered, and Nate turned to see his father with his arms around his siblings, motioning the fighter over. Nate went to them, and sandwiched himself between Jay and Zoey. They put their heads together and wound their arms tightly around each other.

"Listen, we've been through a lot of shit, right?" Alvey asked, having to yell to be heard over the crowd. All his children nodded. "But we're a fucking family, nobody can change that. You're my kids. I love you." Alvey squeezed both Jay and Zoey to his sides as tightly has he could, and they squeezed back. The head of the family lifted his eyes to Nate. "Now go cave his fucking face in."

Nate's mouth broke into a rare grin, unable to contain his excitement any longer. Jay gave Nate a light punch on the cheek, and Zoey squeezed his hand. "You got this," Alvey murmured, and then Nate was off.

While he got approved to go into the cage, the family rushed to find Lisa at the edge. Alvey glanced over at his kids once they got to their spot only to be captured by them. Alvey often forgot that Zoey was electric like Jay, but it was showing now. Her entire focus was on Nate; she really did fucking love fighting as much as the rest of them did. Her eyes were wild, and she was practically glowing. And Jay was like a lion – watching intently, silently sizing up his brother's competition. He was ready for blood.

Lisa smiled at Alvey. She loved the rare moments where he actually looked like a father. It made her fall even more in love with him. He gave her a bright grin in return, not understanding the look. He was just ready to watch Nate kick ass.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, the fighters are in the house! So I just have one question for you – are you ready for a war?!"

The three Kulinas on the ground pressed themselves up against the cage as the crowd screamed behind them. Nate was half-listening as the referee ran through the customary instructions. "Alright, gentlemen. We've been over the rules already. Protect yourself at all times. Obey my commands at all times. Touch gloves now if you want."

They did. Clint gave Nate a twisted, hungry smile and bared his mouth guard. Kill, it read in stark white letters. Nate kept his face blank. He could take this fucker, and he'd prove it.

"At the sound of the bell, come out and handle your business. Let's go."

Nate backed up, a light sheen of sweat already glistening on his shoulders. He kept eye contact with Walker, even as his dad shouted instructions at him from the side. "Nate, Nate, you set the pace. You set the pace, right? Get out there and let your hands go."

That was the last thing Nate was aware of before the world went dim around him and the fight began.

* * *

Round one was a blur of fists and shins, even for the Kulinas outside the cage.

"Come on, Nate, hands up!" Alvey screamed.

"He knows better than this," Zoey murmured to herself, eyebrows drawn together.

Walker picked Nate up and slammed him hard into the ground. Jay winced, but Zoey propelled forward, eyes blazing. Walker had her brother on the ground and was landing punch after punch square on his jaw. She could see blood trickling down from his eye, which was already shutting on its own. Fuck.

Nate twisted, nearly making it out from under his opponent. Jay clutched his hat tightly while Alvey, still calm, was yelling, "Knees, knees, knees!" and hoping that some part of Nate could hear him.

It didn't look good to any one of the Kulinas, Jay especially. Zoey had grown up with Nate always getting knocked around bloody, but Jay was still watching his little brother – his kid – get beaten to a pulp. And unlike Zoey, Jay knew what taking those vicious punches felt like.

Nate managed to push to his knees like Alvey wanted and use the cage to get back on his feet. The excitement was short-lived, though, because within seconds, Walker landed a kick on Nate's shin that sent him stumbling back. Anger flared up in the fighting Kulina, and he threw a hard punch – missed.

"HANDS UP!" Jay called, frustrated that his brother wasn't protecting himself.

Nate made another mistake and allowed himself to get thrown back to the ground – ouch. Walker started in on the punches again and quickly put Nate in a rear naked chokehold.

"Get out of there! Chin down, chin down," Alvey called, but everyone else in the room knew it was over. "Don't tap! Don't you tap!" he instructed loudly, making sure to be heard over the crowd.

These were the moments where Zoey was scared of her father's coaching. He was the best, she knew that, but it was because he pushed his fighters hard. She would argue that it was too hard. The hold Alvey was telling Nate not to tap out of was known for being excruciating because it cut off the air supply to the brain. Zoey watched her brother intently and shifted so that her shoulder was touching Jay's. Several more agonizing seconds ticked by, and finally the horn blared to signal the end of the round. Nate stumbled to his feet and waited for his dad on the edge, swiping at the river of blood trickling down his face.

Alvey stayed calm as he entered the cage and made his way to Nate. He ran his thumb over the blood and then sat him down and pushed a water bottle into his hand. "Listen to this," he instructed, his voice as unruffled as his demeanor.

Nate nodded.

"He just showed you everything he has," Alvey continued quietly, reaching for a cotton swab and dabbing at the blood on his son's forehead, "and you took it all. You took it all. I need you to relax, though. I don't want you to fight his fight, I want you to fight your fight. Just breathe and relax. Alright? Angle out, throw your hands, and angle out again."

"Hey, let your fists go flying!" Jay encouraged loudly. "Hit him in the fucking face!"

"Ay, shut the fuck up," Alvey called, raising his voice for the first time since he stepped foot in the cage. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice soft again as he turned his attention back to Nate. "Stay cool, stay relaxed. Let's go."

The second round went quickly. Jay would later swear that Nate spent half the round beating Walker up against the cage. Jay was screaming with the crowd the whole time, but Zoey and Alvey watched silently with matching wide brown eyes. Father and daughter were unknowingly both taking in the action and trying to predict what was coming next. Alvey, of course, had a much larger mental bank of possibilities, but Zoey knew Nate's habits well enough to keep up.

The two fighters in the cage that night were well matched, the best competition Alvey had seen in a while. Nate would slam Walker into the floor, but then Walker would land a kick square over Nate's liver that would send the crowd into a chorus of oohs. The worst was when Walker landed a nasty punch up the side of Nate's head. Zoey reached down and clawed at Jay's wrist in fear, and Jay quickly found her fingers and squeezed. Neither sibling took their eyes off their brother as he stared, dazed, up at the ceiling. He quickly regained control, though, and pulled Walker back down to the floor. Thank god.

The whole arena was on their feet as Nate held Walker down.

All four Kulinas could feel the adrenaline pumping through their veins as Nate fought. It was as though all of them were there in the cage with him, throwing their own punches alongside him. The horn blew, and Nate had won the round. They were one and one.

This was when Zoey started her bouncing, but, luckily, she was ready with her shorts and t-shirt this time. She bounced as Alvey went in to clean up her brother, and she bounced through all his classic, "Give me five minutes, give me five fucking minutes and I'll give you a win," pep talk crap that didn't really mean anything but got Nate all jazzed up. She bounced so much that her toes were cracking against the carpet and Jay actually put a hand to the top of her head in effort to still her. She just gave him a desperate look and continued.

"He's got this," Jay muttered, and Zoey nodded.

As soon as the whistle blew, signaling the beginning of the round, Zoey lost her mind. She was screaming as much as Jay, forgetting all about the technique and the prediction and just enjoying the fight in front of her. This is what it was all about – Nate pounding the shit out of whoever was put in front of him and coming out on top, no matter how much blood wound up on his face.

"Fuck him up!" she yelled, and Jay grinned at her.

"Yeah, Nate, fuck him up!" he echoed.

Alvey was trying to coach, but it was easily drowned out in the shouts of the crowd. With Lisa screaming on one side of him and his kids screaming on the other, Alvey could hardly even hear himself.

Zoey always loved when she got that clear realization that yes, she was absolutely positive that Nate was going to win. Yeah, she always expected him to – they all did. But that moment when it became official was like gold. It was even better that night, though, because the moment came when Nate slammed Walker to the ground right in front of her.

Her feet came off the floor as Walker's head hit the canvas, and a triumphant shout tore out of her chest. Jay slung one arm around her shoulders and threw the other into the air, and Lisa darted around Alvey to join in the victory squeeze.

Nate was still throwing punch after punch, though, so as far as Alvey was concerned, it wasn't over yet. "Finish him, finish him!" he chanted. "Don't you stop! Don't stop! You got this!"

Finally, the ref pushed Nate off Walker, and all the hands in the arena went up.

"FUCK YEAH!" Alvey cheered. "That's my boy!"

Jay was red in the face from screaming, and he broke apart from Lisa and his sister to throw his arms around his father. Alvey returned the hug with just as much force, and then pulled Zoey in so tight it hurt.

"He did it, Daddy, he did it!" Zoey laughed breathlessly, unable to stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

"I know, princess," Alvey grinned back. "He looked damn good doing it!"

Zoey's chest warmed at his acceptance.

Nate was in the cage with his arms up like fucking Hercules while Walker was still lying on the floor, blood running in rivers down his face.

"YES!" Alvey shouted as they opened the cage door. He ran to his son and lifted him off the ground.

Nate had the biggest smile on his face. He wrapped an arm around his dad and then held his other one out for Jay and Zoey, who were flying toward him. The family crashed into the wall of the cage, a laughing, screaming mess of love and pride.

Nate broke apart to take his victory lap. Jay stuffed his hat onto Zoey's head, and Alvey squeezed his two distant kids to his chest again. A wild, deep chant was quickly growing in the audience – "Navy Street! Navy Street! Navy Street!"

Nate pounced on the cage wall and scaled it like Zoey had the week prior. He gave the air a solid punch when he got to the top. Then he hopped down and jogged back to his family, who were waiting for him with big smiles and open arms.

Lisa watched them huddled in a rough hug, the fucked-up Kulina bunch, and if she grew a little teary, well, no one had to know.


	5. Chapter 5

Three hours after the fight found Ryan texting Lisa's old number, Nate and Zoey both dead asleep in Jay's bed, and Alvey fucking Lisa raw.

The last time the kids fell asleep together in Jay's room, it was 2006 and they had decided that for some reason, it would be a great idea to watch House of Wax. Jay had arrived home to the apartment to see all the lights on and Nate and Zee babbling frantically about decomposing corpses. Oh man, that had been fun to piece together. Nate lost a couple of days' worth of TV privileges for that one.

Tonight, though, he found them both sleeping soundly when he got out of the shower. He snapped a picture, sent it to Dad, and draped a blanket over them. He took a minute to look at his two little siblings as they breathed quietly, his fatherly instincts emerging. They had both started to really grow up, but they still looked so innocent while they slept. He smiled to himself; what sweet kids he had.

He left his door cracked open and the hall light on before he slipped outside to his truck. He prayed that the sound of the engine turning over wouldn't be loud enough to wake Nate - he'd always been a light sleeper - and then quietly drove off to the pawnshop. He'd been in such a good mood tonight that he decided to actually allow Zoey to sample a beer, but when she took a sip, she sputtered and handed it right back. They'd all howled with laughter. Talk about anti-climactic.

Regardless, the small gaggle of guests after the fight had drunken Jay out of house and home, and he wanted to restock before morning, which mean he needed to pawn something off to get money. He also figured it was time to pay a visit to Mom.

* * *

A few blocks away, Lisa had deleted Ryan's texts without opening them and was letting Alvey pound into her from behind. She moaned beneath him, loving how hard he was thrusting tonight with all his adrenaline from Nate's win.

Her wrists were just starting to ache when her body took over for her mind. She crossed into that territory when she couldn't help but talk dirty – the words always just wound up spilling out of her mouth, tipping Alvey off to the fact that he was doing something right.

"Yeah, baby," she panted. "Like that. Don't stop. Mmm, love your big cock."

"Yeah?" Alvey asked, a grin spreading across his face as he watched his girl fall apart underneath him.

"Harder," she commanded. "Harder, Alvey." She let out a slow groan that went straight to Alvey's dick. He stuttered, and she pushed back into him. "No, no, don't stop. Need your cock. Come on, fuck me. Fuck me."

"Lis, I'm gonna come," he warned.

"Not til I do. Come on, Alvey."

"Ugh, you're gonna kill me, baby," Alvey moaned.

"Come on, I'm almost there. Harder. Fuck me. Fuck me."

Alvey reached around the front of Lisa and dipped his first two fingers into the wet, fleshy spot between her legs. He played there for a few seconds, but just the one touch had her tipping over the edge.

"Oh, fuck," she groaned, arching her back as much as she could. Pleasure coursed through her, and she felt Alvey's seed spilling warm into her.

He stayed inside her while he caught his breath, and then he slowly pulled out and crashed down onto the bed next to her. She rolled down onto her side to face him, the pain in her wrists finally relieved. "Hi," she smiled.

"Hi," he whispered back and leaned in to gently kiss her.

* * *

Jay hated this part of town. Being in Venice was bad enough, but the bad side of Venice… It was like going into the most dangerous neighborhoods of Harlem. The area was swamped with crime, drugs, prostitution – that's why Jay was there, after all. The prostitution.

He drove his pickup slowly down the street his mom frequented. He had to pass several girls of all shapes, sizes, and colors clad in several variations of "hooker style" before he got to his mother. She was leaning against the alley wall, just a shadow of dark, curly hair and a skimpy dress.

Jay rolled the window down. "Hey," he called softly.

Christina recognized Jay's truck and hissed to him without moving. "What are you doing?"

"Get in," he said, voice low. She was like an animal, and he was always sure to speak to her with regard to that.

Her high heels clicked against the ground – like Zoey's had earlier that night, Jay remembered. The thought made his stomach turn.

"I can't tonight," Christina replied, but she walked his direction anyway.

"For a second?" Jay begged. "Please?"

Christina stopped at his window, but she was looking over her shoulder instead of at her son. "You're gonna get me in trouble," she warned.

"I'm just asking you to come in for a second." Jay's voice had dropped to a whisper. He knew he'd already lost.

His mother rolled her lips together and looked at the floor. Jay shut his eyes in sadness but still reached into his pocket to hold out the wad of cash he'd gotten at the pawnshop.

Christina snatched it from his hand and quickly tucked it into her dress. This was practiced. She'd stopped trying to say no to her son, because he'd just keep pushing until she took it anyway.

"Please get some food," Jay murmured. He paused a few seconds, trying to hold his emotions together as he prepared himself to drive away and leave her alone again. "I love you, Mom."

* * *

Lisa's phone dinged, announcing more texts Ryan. She stared at them as Alvey slept next to her.

Across town, Jay dropped his keys softly on the kitchen counter and went to his room. He'd barely pushed the door open when he remembered Nate and Zoey were sleeping there. His heart squeezed in his chest at his mistake, and he raised a hand to cover his eyes.

These poor, sweet kids. They had no idea about their mother. And Mom had missed so much of their lives. It was one of those things that no matter how much time Jay had to get used to the idea, part of him would always grieve it. Both of those kids had needed a mother at several different points, and Jay didn't know how to be that for them. Best friend? Yes, he could fill that role. He could act as father and big brother and friend for the rest of eternity, but he had no idea how to be a mother. He didn't even know where to start. Yeah, he was nurturing as fuck, always had been, but that didn't change him in Nate and Zoey's eyes. They both needed a real mom.

Jay slipped inside the room and over to the bed. A better look let him see that the two were sleeping with their backs pressed together, Nate's skin to Zoey's tank top, and he smiled in spite of his sadness. He leaned down to kiss the top of Nate's head and went around the other side to give Zoey a kiss, too. She stirred, and he froze. Fuck.

She looked up at him with confused, tired eyes. She glanced around and started to sit up, but Jay put a hand out to stop her. "Shh," he murmured, gently pressing her back down. "Stay. 'S okay."

"You can sleep in my room," she whispered sleepily.

He gave her a small smile. "Thanks." He brushed her hair back and lightly kissed her forehead. He let his hand rest atop her head until her breathing evened back out.

He slipped his shoes off by his doorway as a signal to Nate that he got home alright and then went out the door and shut it behind himself. He went into Zoey's room, climbed into her bed and pulled her quilt up to his chest. Her pillows smelled like her shampoo. He turned her lamp off before he could notice anything else about the room.

In the dark, he studied the photograph she had of the three Kulina kids taped to her nightstand. He pressed his fingers to each face one at a time, and then turned over and tried to sleep.

* * *

Zoey and Jay joined Nate at Navy Street on Sunday afternoon. Jay was in the cage again – with permission this time – and Nate was busying himself boasting and stealing Zoey's chips. Alvey had come out of his office to watch Jay and to keep an eye on the other two.

"Aw, Jay, you look good," Nate called, even though he was barely watching. "Not as good as me, though. 'Cause I'm the fucking champ."

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Zoey replied, making a grab for her chips. She nearly fell off the steps when Nate shoved her back, but she was used to his roughness. She pushed back just as hard.

"Cham-pi-on," Nate declared, leaning in his sister's face and showing her a mouth full of chewed up food. Alvey rolled his eyes.

"Nice," Zoey deadpanned.

"You guys remember that time I beat Clint Walker? That was special."

"Alvey," a woman said, and the three Kulinas outside the cage turned to look. Alvey's eyes went straight to her high heels digging into the mat.

Zoey was trying to listen to what they were talking about, but Nate distracted her by dangling the chip bag in front of her face and then snatching it away again when she reached for it.

"I hate you," she muttered.

The truth was, she loved seeing her brother out of his quiet, serious shell. The pressure was off of him. Not only that, but he'd won. He was so much fun when he was happy like this. He actually reminded her a lot of Jay.

She turned back to watch Jay sparring. Nate was right; he really did look good. His muscles had retained their memory of good form. Yeah, it was a little sloppy, but two years was a long time, especially to go without such a physical sport.

"When you walk around the mats," Zoey heard her dad say in his annoyed voice, "on the ground over there, to the front desk, you can find a card. Lisa Prince. Give her a call. She'll help you out."

"Fantastic, I'll reach out to her," the woman replied. She spoke in a sickly-sweet voice that made Zoey uneasy.

Nate was standing up now and dangling the chip bag again, but Zoey, who had given up, just whacked his leg. It was a lost cause. Nate was like a vacuum after a fight, and she could already hear his fingers scraping through the dust at the bottom of the bag.

"It's so great to meet you, Alvey. You're such a legend. My dad used to watch all your fights."

Zoey watched as Alvey gave a crooked smile. She knew that comment would be under his skin for weeks.

He sighed and nodded, looking away. "Thank you."

Nate leaned around the pole after the Kulinas were alone again and taunted, "Her dad used to watch all your fights."

That pulled a laugh out of Alvey. "You know what, you little fuck?"

Nate dropped the empty chip bag next to Zoey and tugged his sweatshirt hood up. He hopped off the steps and started for the door.

"No – no! You ate it, you get to throw it away," Zoey chided.

Nate made a 180, took the bag from her hand, and headed for the exit. "See ya," he called. Zoey sighed and shifted her attention back to Jay.

"Is he leaving?" Jay asked her, panting a bit from exertion.

"Yeah, I guess. He ate all my chips, so I guess he's done now."

"What? No!" Jay bounded out of the cage and down the steps.

Alvey shook his head and gave Zoey a small smile. She was so shocked at her father's unwarranted attention that she immediately averted her eyes. She shrugged one shoulder, turned away from her dad, and pulled out her cell phone.

"Hey, champ!" Jay called, catching up to Nate. "I thought I was gonna get to roll later."

"I'm taking the day off," Nate replied, grabbing his bike from where he'd propped it up behind the desk.

"To do what?" Jay asked, walking his brother to the door.

"Whatever the fuck I want," Nate sang with a carefree grin. He hopped on his bike and started pedaling.

"Day-o!" Jay cheered. "Okay, well, tomorrow! Tomorrow, I'm going to kick your ass." Nate fondly flipped him off, and Jay jogged back inside to reclaim his spot in the cage.

Alvey watched him spar for a few more minutes before he headed back to his office. "Work the bag, work the bag! Don't let the bag work you!" he yelled to Mac as he walked.

Zoey took advantage of Jay's distracted state and started digging through his wallet for a dollar. Since Nate had eaten all her chips, she was still hungry. She was walking across the floor to the vending machine when she let out a sharp, sudden scream. The gym went quiet.

Zoey gasped hard, frozen to the spot – it felt as though someone had just rammed her in the ribs with a hammer. She clenched her side with a trembling hand. "JAY!" she cried, but her brother was already on his way to her.

Alvey's door flew open, and he headed straight for his daughter. He beat Jay there, and Zoey grabbed her father's wrists and dug her nails in. "Oh my god, oh my god," she whispered frantically.

"Hey, hey, hey," Alvey murmured, trying to pull her back to reality and stop her from making a scene. "What's wrong? What's wrong, huh?"

"Nate – please – oh my god. Something happened, I don't –"

Her eyes were unfocused, and she sounded like she was pleading. Jay's stomach dropped. This was that twin thing, and the way she was reacting…

"What?" Alvey said. "Did he tell you something?"

"No," Jay answered for her, pushing in front of her father to grip his sister's shoulders.

"We have to go, we have to go now," Zoey demanded desperately, gaping at her brother with eyes wide as saucers. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. "Jay, we have to – " Her voice cut off with a strangled cry. She turned tail and started running.

Jay followed her out the door and down the street, no questions asked. He'd had enough of these incidents with his siblings to know that their guts were never wrong. What he was afraid of was that none of them had ever been even remotely like this.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"I don't know," Zoey answered, and he could hear her crying. "I don't know, but he's this way."

"Okay," Jay responded reassuringly. "I'm with you."

They'd only been running for a moment when Alvey's shiny black car pulled up next to them. "Get in."

Zoey gave directions, and Alvey blindly followed. He wasn't sure what was happening, but his daughter's fearful tears were enough to keep him playing along. Jay spent the entire ride looking out the window, but it was Alvey who spotted Nate first.

"Oh my fucking god."

Zoey was out of the car and running to her brother before Alvey had even put the brake on. There was a thick river of blood running out of Nate's head and down the pavement. Zoey started crying freely then, her terror totally taking over. Jay grabbed her from behind, his arms tight around her waist as he half-picked her up and dragged her back so Alvey could inspect Nate. Zoey turned in Jay's grasp and latched her arms around his middle. She sobbed into his tank top.

"You did it, Zee, you found him," Jay murmured, winding his arms even tighter around his little sister as he stared at Nate's motionless body. "You got him. It's okay. It's okay. He's gonna be okay." Jay was floored, though – it was like somebody had yanked the ground out from under him. It wasn't the blood that scared him the most (he had seen enough blood to last a lifetime); it was the way Nate was lying so still.

Alvey dialed 911. When he hung up, he motioned his other kids over to him. They went quickly, both of them scared to death. Alvey was as well, but he forced himself to hide it and stay calm. He tucked a child into each arm and started praying out loud. He could feel both his kids shaking with panicked sobs, and he squeezed them tighter. "It's gonna be okay," he said weakly.

Zoey let go of her father – there was something she needed to do in case all this went sour. She gently placed her hand on Nate's head, blood and all, and kissed his forehead. "I love you," she whispered, her voice wrecked. "You're my best friend. Please don't leave me."

Zoey's words nearly pushed Alvey over the edge. He dropped his head into his hands and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the tears to stay in his eyes. It stung, but he couldn't show weakness. Not now. His babies needed him, and he'd be strong for them.

Zoey kept her hand atop Nate's head, as if she could hold her big brother together with her fingers. Jay moved next to her and leaned in, resting his chin on her shoulder. He watched as an angry, purple bruise started forming on Nate's eye.

Eight frantic minutes ticked slowly by before Kulinas heard sirens approaching in the distance.

"Finally," Alvey exhaled, and he went to stand in the street to flag down the ambulance.

Everything that happened after that was a blur to Zoey. A team of paramedics patched Nate up as best they could on site, and then they transported him onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. Alvey tossed Jay his car keys and told him to take Nate's bike, drop Zoey at Alvey's house, and take the car to meet him at the hospital.

"I wanna stay with you," Zoey protested to Jay, but Alvey silenced her with a look.

"Lisa's home," Alvey stated, as if that was just as good. Zoey looked down at the pool of dark blood on the concrete. She just wanted Nate to be okay.

The blur resumed. Zoey curled up in the front seat of Alvey's car as Jay drove her back to the big house. He parked in the driveway and came inside with Zoey to explain to Lisa what had happened. Lisa hugged Jay for a long time and told him he could stay if he wanted. Jay told her he was pretty sure he wasn't welcome, but he was grateful for her offer. He gave Zoey a tight hug, told her she would know as soon as anything happened, and promised he'd see her in the morning.

"You wanna take a shower?" Lisa asked, her voice gentle as she combed her fingers through Zoey's dark hair.

The younger girl shook her head.

"Are you sure? You've got blood all over your face, baby. There's some in your hair, too."

Zoey stood slowly, feeling as though her joints should be creaking. She ached all over from stress, but she went to the mirror anyway. Lisa was right – Zoey must have reached up to move her hair, because there was a streak of Nate's blood that started at the top of her forehead and continued to halfway down her cheek. The blood was still caked on her fingers and her palm, but she didn't have the heart to wash it off. What if Nate didn't make it? What if –

No. No. She couldn't think like that. Her heart had seized up at just the flicker of the idea.

Lisa walked Zoey to her bedroom to pick out some clean clothes. Zoey opted for pajamas even though it was only 4pm. She went to the bathroom to change and took her scissors to her wrist while she was there. It helped a lot, adding her own blood to the mix. Afterwards, Lisa got her to drink a few sips of water and had her climb into the big, memory foam bed that Lisa shared with Alvey. Zoey was asleep within minutes of lying down. Lisa played with her hair for a while after anyway.

Lisa texted Jay to let him know that Zoey was asleep, but there was no answer. She figured he was either getting smashed or stoned. Or maybe he was asleep, too. Jay was always unpredictable, and a situation like this made him even more so.

Alvey got home three or four hours later and immediately started drinking. Lisa came down, and they fucked on the couch. They watched the news together for a while (nothing of Nate, luckily), and Alvey went up to shower.

"What's Zoey doing in our bed?" he asked when he came back down.

"I didn't want her to be alone," Lisa explained.

"What?"

"Earlier. She's got blood on her face and her hands, and she wouldn't get in the shower. She's terrified, baby. And I was afraid to leave her alone. We were watching TV, and she just fell asleep."

"I've gotta wake her up," Alvey muttered.

"Alvey, no," Lisa pleaded.

"Yeah, I do. She's in our bed."

"I'll sleep there with her, I don't mind. You go in Nate's room."

"Lis –"

"Please, you should have seen her face. She needs sleep."

Alvey sighed. "Fine."

Lisa reached over to rub his back.

"I felt like a dad today," Alvey mused softly. "Fuckin' awful that it takes something like that to kick my ass into gear, but I felt it. Made me realize – no matter how old they are, I'll always think of them as kids. Hell, when I was Nate's age I already had Jay. But Jay's still my baby, you know?" He shook his head and rubbed a hand roughly over his face. "He was crying, and I – it was like he was a kid again. Like he was four fucking years old. God."

Lisa pulled Alvey to her chest and slowly kissed the top of his head. He closed his eyes and let the silence speak for him; he'd been avoiding the subject of Nate since he got home an hour ago. He'd never get the image all that thread in the back of his kid's head out of his mind, not ever. They'd run 6 different tests on Nate and asked Alvey what felt like a thousand questions, and he didn't want to talk about it anymore. He just wanted to sleep.

"I can't sleep in Nate's room," Alvey admitted quietly. "I'm gonna wake Zo up."

"Okay," Lisa replied sadly, stroking Alvey's hair.

He leaned up for a kiss, and the pair went upstairs. Zoey was still sleeping soundly when Alvey sat down at the edge of the bed. He put a hand to her shoulder and started talking. "Zoey… Hey, Zoey. Wake up."

"What time is it?" she mumbled.

"It's bedtime. You gotta go back to your room."

"Is he okay?" she asked, sitting up on her elbows.

"He's gonna be just fine," Alvey answered. "They said we might be able to bring him home tomorrow." He couldn't help but reach out with two fingers to trace the streak of dried blood Lisa had mentioned. "Go back to sleep, okay? It's getting late."

Zoey nodded, but she was awake now. She headed back to her room but didn't bother trying to rest. She lied awake, staring at the ceiling and rubbing a finger over her fresh cuts. It was a miracle that Lisa hadn't seen them, but she didn't say anything. It was clumsy, cutting on her wrist and then going to sleep next to someone. Zoey had no control over her body when she slept, which meant she couldn't hide the angry red marks. At least if she waited until morning to see people, the top of the incisions would have healed enough that she could cover them with some makeup. Still, she tried to forgive herself. She had been too far gone to think ahead like that. She'd been out of her mind with worry for Nate, but Dad said he might come home tomorrow. That much was good.

Chapter Management


	6. Chapter 6

Early the next morning, Alvey found himself slightly hungover, sitting in front of his therapist. He should have been talking about yesterday - about his child nearly bleeding out in front of him, about his daughter's freaky psychic link with his son, about the way seeing his 28-year old crying knocked Alvey back on his heels and made him feel like he was a brand new, first-time father again, scared shitless. Instead, he decided to talk about MMA. Go figure.

"Fighting's a mindfuck," he stated, blunt as always. His voice was quiet, though. "Fighting hurts. It softens your dick. Unless you're a psychopath, but I got no time for guys like that."

The therapist cracked a sideways smile.

"Most guys run from fights," Alvey continued, "'cause they don't want the answer to the inevitable question that they whisper to themselves. 'Am I one of the weak? Or am I one of the strong? Where do I line up in the pecking order of it all?' Fighters… Fighters need that. Ya know, it lifts them up. It feeds them. It's a truth that they gotta have."

Alvey shifted on the couch, waiting for his therapist to speak. The man stayed silent.

"I think that's what's fuckin' me up," Alvey admitted. "I think that's, uh… You know, I don't have that anymore in my life. I don't know. I don't even know what questions to ask." He fell silent for a moment, nodding to himself, mulling things over. "I'm starting to feel like I'm a big fucking joke. Like, I'm just. Like I'm a revival act. And everything I've done that's worth a shit – it's already happened." He swallowed. "A couple of weeks ago, Lisa was handing out flyers. Promo thing for the gym. My picture's on it. I look at it. I say to myself, 'fuck, you should just go limp off into the woods and die already, guy.' I mean, party's over, amigo."

"Have you talked to Lisa about this kinda thing?" the doctor asked.

"She sees it before I do," Alvey replied, an awkward laugh sliding between his lips.

"And what does she say?"

Alvey pointed at him. "She likes you. She thinks this is a good idea. She tells me, you know, that I should ease up on myself. Which I do, I do, I really do. But then I get tired, and uh, I start to feel like shit."

"The sleeping pills aren't working?"

Alvey shook his head. "I'm not taking 'em."

"Why's that?"

"Because I need another pill like I need a hole in the head, doc."

A beat passed.

"How about the other medications? Are they working for you?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess so. Yeah." He shrugged, his mind catching up to his words. "Yeah, they're – yeah. Ya know, I gotta cut this short." He reached for his jacket and his keys.

"Are you sure?" the therapist asked.

"Yeah, yeah. But this – this is good, ya know? You're doing good work."

"Thank you," came the reply, an odd smile on the man's face.

"I think I'm gettin' somewhere."

Alvey drove silently to the gym. He couldn't pause his mental reel of yesterday, no matter how hard he tried. But honestly, part of him didn't want to make it stop. It felt like if he just thought a little harder or if he could just remember a little bit more, then maybe he'd be able to figure out what happened. Nate had spent all of last night unconscious, so Alvey hadn't gotten the chance to talk to him yet.

He busied himself teaching an intermediate class where he basically just supervised partner work and listened to himself talk. Later, he argued with Lisa in the office about money and contracts and what to do with Zoey. He was tired of feeling like this; he just wanted his kid home.

* * *

Nate stared at the ceiling.

He should have been heartbroken, livid, terrified, something, but instead, he just felt empty. Numb.

He knew Dad and Lisa were coming to pick him up in less than an hour, so he forced himself out of bed. He wheeled the IV over to the mirror and took a long, hard look at himself. His skin was washed out in the pale glow of the flickering light above him, and it made the stark bruises stand out even more. Most of them were a purplish brown, but at least his black eye was starting to fade. He was glad no one was able to detect how much pain he was in or badly his body was aching on the inside. This was a worse beating than any he'd taken in a cage in years. Maybe ever. There were no gloves or refs in the real world.

He took a breath and turned his head slowly to the side, trying as best he could to see the scar on his head. He'd felt for it this morning when he woke up, and he counted 17 stitches. They felt like the needles of a Christmas tree under his fingertips, or maybe the bristles of a toothbrush. The doctors had to completely shave a section of his hair off in order to sew him shut, and that just made the black thread look even harsher. Everyone was going to freak out.

Nate stared at himself until he couldn't bear his disgusting reflection anymore, and then he wheeled the IV back to his bed. He didn't lie down, though; he just sat on the edge in the standard hospital slippers and waited for a nurse to tell him it was time to go.

It wound up being Mac that came to take the IV out of his hand. He replaced it with a pink unicorn Band-Aid just to fuck with Nate, but the younger man wasn't in the mood. He just wanted to get home and be alone without doctors and nurses checking in on him every hour.

After all the discharge papers had been signed, Mac manhandled Nate into the wheelchair required for exit. This was nothing new to Nate, though – he and his Navy Street family had spent countless nights in the hospital, so he knew the drill. On the way out to the front, Nate did manage to mutter a deadpan joke about Mac's terrible breath – he'd clearly been out drinking all night – and Mac retorted that Nate could blame Jay. Great. Just what Nate needed.

"Hey!" Alvey called. He was walking up the steps just as Mac wheeled him out the front doors.

"Look at you!" Lisa smiled.

"My beautiful son, held together with duct tape," Alvey mused. "Still handsome."

Lisa leaned across to kiss Nate on the cheek. "Aw, you look great."

"Thanks for coming, guys," Nate said, his voice soft. He wished it had been Jay there to get him, but he appreciated his dad coming to pick him up as soon as he was allowed out.

"Let's get you away from this hospital before you get a staph infection," Alvey joked, taking over for Mac and pushing Nate slowly down the ramp toward the parking lot.

"Keep an eye on his concussion symptoms," Mac reminded.

"Yeah, yeah, I spoke to the doctor," Alvey replied, waving him off. Then he dropped his voice "Hey, uh, come by the gym next week. And bring a goodie bag."

"Sure, whatever you need."

Nate pretended not to hear.

Once they were in the car, Alvey said, "Doc says week, week and a half, you can start physical therapy. That goes as it should, you can start training inside of six months." He turned around the passenger seat to look at his son, expecting to see a hopeful expression. Instead, he was met with sorrow.

"That's good," Nate responded, keeping his voice devoid of emotion.

"Good? That's fucking great. I'm gettin' a lot of calls on you right now. You got a lot of heat. Just gotta get you healthy."

"Nate, you really should come stay with us," Lisa offered.

"Oh, why don't you do that?" Alvey agreed. "We'll cook you good meals, you can get some rest… I can – I can watch out for you. Do that. Do that. Come with us."

It was always weird when they tag-teamed him like this. Like he was a little kid and they were his parents or something.

"Nah… I'm good at my place," he declined. "But, um, if it's cool, I'll take you up on the meals."

"No, it's not cool," Alvey retorted, and Lisa laughed. Nate smiled for the first time since he left the gym two days before.

A few minutes later, Alvey helped Nate out of the car.

"Careful," Lisa murmured.

"Ah, he's fine," Alvey stated, giving Lisa a look. He held onto the crutches while Nate got his bearings on the ground, and then Alvey led him to the door, Nate's duffle bag on his arm. "Come by the gym later," he requested. "Everybody wants to see you."

"Yeah, I think I'll go tomorrow if it's cool."

"Sure," Alvey replied quickly. "Rest up." Truth be told, he was nervous about leaving Nate here with Jay. Of course, Jay's track record for taking care of Nate was nearly spotless, but Jay's irresponsibility when it came to himself still didn't sit well with Alvey.

Music flooded the yard when Nate pushed the door open.

"You good?" Alvey asked, wrapping his arms around his son.

"Yeah."

"Can't keep my boy down. I'll call you in a little while. Get some rest."

"Thanks."

"And let me know if you need anything, alright?"

"I will," Nate said quietly. Alvey shut the door, and Nate hobbled off to find the source of the music and silence it.

He was finally alone. The house was empty – Dad had said Zoey was staying at his place, and Jay was probably crashed at a friend's house, doing his best to stave off his inevitable hangover with sleep. Nate was honestly relieved, though; he could do with a few solitary hours to catch up on some actual sleep before Jay went all overprotective, revenge-seeking big brother and Zoey got all emotional about how she thought he was dead. He was sure she couldn't have gone through Saturday without one hell of a twin telepathy episode, and he didn't want to see what her reaction was, not after a weekend like this one. He was exhausted.

He downed twice the number of pain pills he was allowed and waited until he was floating to close his eyes. California sunshine be damned, Nate was getting some sleep.

* * *

The rest of Monday passed slowly for everyone.

Alvey argued with Lisa some more and got an injection of HGH from Mac. After Jay woke up and drank what felt like half a gallon of Pedialyte, he spent the day training. He worked his body as hard as he could to distract himself from what had happened to Nate. Zoey lazily drifted in and out of sleep all morning and spent the afternoon staring at her bedroom walls and willing herself to stay away from the scissors. Lisa dealt with Taylor not having honored his contract and ignored a flurry of texts from Ryan. Mac gave Alvey his drugs and got permission to both set up dealing in the gym and get a new fight. Ryan met with his probation officer and was given a job in pest control. Nate slept and slept and slept.

Nate had dozed off in the recliner in front of the TV, but he slowly woke to the sound of what he thought was the shower. He reached for his crutches and took his time standing. Once he had his balance, he limped toward the kitchen and realized the sound was his older brother frying bacon on the stove.

Jay, clad in a hula shirt and his goddamn beloved horse apron, turned to Nate and smiled. He tossed the dishtowel he'd been using onto his shoulder and held out his arms. "You're alive," he grinned. "Welcome home, man."

Nate hobbled carefully into Jay's gentle embrace.

"How you doin'?" Jay asked, but it was more than the usual courtesy.

"I'm good," Nate muttered.

"Good, good. Come sit down." Jay walked next to him, hovering overprotectively in his brother's space. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"You want me to, uh, put your leg up here?" Jay asked, motioning to the chair Zoey usually sat in.

"No, no, I'm good," Nate repeated.

"'Kay." Jay gave him a light tap on the chest and then returned to the stove.

After another moment of cooking, Jay brought Nate a plate with a generous helping of bacon and a large pancake. Zoey usually made several small pancakes, but Jay had always liked to cook one big one.

"Enjoy that," Jay instructed, motioning at the dish. "That is Whole Foods turkey bacon."

Nate felt a small pang of guilt at Jay's words – the younger boy hardly had any appetite. His mind was still trying to work through what had happened, and the pain meds weren't exactly making him hungry.

"Zebra's still at Dad's," Jay explained, using Nate's nickname for her sister. It was strange hearing him refer to her like that, like how parents called each other "Daddy" and "Mommy" when they spoke to the children. "She texted me she might come back here tonight, though."

Nate nodded. She was most likely avoiding him, but he didn't blame her. He avoided hurt and sick people, too. They made him uncomfortable and nervous.

"Look, about the hospital today," Jay offered, changing the subject again, "I'm sorry. Alvey and Lisa had it. So."

"Don't worry about it, man. It's all good." Nate toyed with the bacon strip in his hand but didn't take a bite. The two made accidental eye contact, and for the first time, Nate realized how worried Jay looked. No wonder he'd been so awkward. He was walking on eggshells.

"Why don't you grab those utensils," Jay suggested a little too loudly, pushing a large helping of the eggs onto Nate's plate, "and eat up."

For Jay's sake, Nate wanted to, he did, but his stomach was still turning. He wasn't in the mood for eating. Or for anything, really.

"Man," Jay exhaled, coming to stand next to Nate. He put his hands on his hips and sighed. "That is some scar, huh?"

Jay hadn't seen it until now, and Nate really hated the way he was looking at it. He hated the way everyone looked at it, actually. Dad looked at it like if he stared at it hard enough, it would start spouting answers. Lisa looked at it like it had broken Nate (it hadn't). And now Jay – well, Jay was looking at it like it was his ticket to a revenge plot.

"Hm, you're a real monster, huh? Boy, look at this thing."

The second Jay's hand made contact with the side of Nate's head, Nate threw his hand up to block him. "Stop," he said. His tone wasn't harsh, but the word still came out clipped. He tugged his sweatshirt hood on.

"I'm sorry about that," Jay apologized, and Nate could tell that he was sincere. It wasn't often that Jay used his big boy words when it came to apologizing.

The older Kulina took a moment to turn away from Nate and take a breath, but then he was scraping the rest of the eggs onto his own plate and sitting down at the table. "Do you wanna talk about the guys who jumped you now?"

Nate's brain fumbled for a moment, trying to figure out how to deflect the question. "Meaning what?"

"You know, what'd they look like, what they were saying, were they talking shit?"

Nate averted his eyes.

In the washed out, orange light of the kitchen, the bruises looked even worse. Even while Jay started cutting up his own food, he couldn't help but stare at his little brother.

Nate slowly shook his head. "I don't remember." The lie tripped easily off his tongue – he'd been repeating it for two days now.

"Well, you didn't steal anything, so they must have had a reason to fuck you up." Anger was seeping into Jay's voice now, but Nate wasn't bothered. It was directed at those fuckers, not him. Still, Jay was giving him those crazy eyes, so Nate laid it out as simply as he could.

"Jay," Nate sighed softly, his voice laced with exhaustion. "I left the gym, I woke up in the hospital." He shook his head, his eyes on the tile floor. "I can't tell you something I don't know."

A siren wailed in the distance, and Nate was silent for so long that Jay was sure he was done talking.

"It'd be really nice if you didn't pelt me with fucking questions," he mumbled.

"You're right," Jay agreed. "I'm sorry."

The front door banged open. Nate tensed for a second, but then Zoey's voice broke the silence.

"Ja-ay! I'm home!"

"Kitchen!" Jay yelled back.

"Alvey and Lisa started fucking," she declared, talking extra loudly as she walked into her room to drop her shoes and her bag. "There's like an unspoken rule! They're supposed to wait at least til after dinner! I'm too young and innocent to know anything about sex! Too young and innocent, I tell you!" she ranted, but she was laughing a little as her voice traveled back through the house toward where the boys were sitting. "But no, I'm in my room and all of a sudden they just start going at it, and I –"

She stopped short at the sight of Nate at the table. "Hi," she said quietly, but the word came out as more of a question than a greeting.

Nate gave her a nod.

She sat down in her chair between her brothers. Jay rearranged some of the dishes to make space for her, but the little Kulinas weren't paying him any attention. Zoey looked at Nate, silently trying to read his face and determine whether or not he was okay. She knew he had to have been sick of everyone asking him, so she didn't.

He turned up the corners of his lips as best he could – a tiny gesture of hope. She returned the expression.

She could feel Jay staring at them, so she kept her eyes on Nate and observed, "You look like Elliot." She laughed to herself, but kept her voice quiet. She took a drink of Nate's ice water. "This is perfect. You can be Elliot, which means I'm Gertie and Jay is the big brother. What's his name? The football player that sings that funny song at the fridge."

"I have absolute power," Jay mimicked, and Zoey giggled.

"Yeah, him."

Nate pushed his plate towards her, offering her whatever she wanted. She gave him a nod of thanks.

"I don't remember his name," Jay stated. "But Zee, if you're Gertie, then who's gonna be E.T.?"

"Hey!" She whacked her oldest brother. "I guess we'll just have to get a dog."

Jay tried not to notice the pleading in her eyes. "Yeah, right," he said sarcastically. He wished he could give Zoey everything she wanted. But a dog? No way.

"It could live in the yard," she sing-songed. "Pleeeeeease? Jay, please!"

"Michael," Nate muttered.

"You can't name a dog Michael," Zoey protested gently around a mouthful of Nate's turkey bacon. "And I want a girl dog. I'm tired of boys."

"No, the brother from E.T.," Nate explained softly. "His name is Michael."

Zoey gave him a tiny smile.

"See, that's why we keep you around, brainiac," Jay joked. He looked at both his siblings. "Now, eat your pancakes."

The rest of dinner went slowly. Zoey kept the conversation as light as she could. Nate was itching to get away from the table, though, and she knew it. She ate as quickly as she could without letting Jay on to what she was doing.

"Hey, Nate, you wanna have some people over to the house? There's been some girls asking about you," Jay smirked as he walked over to the gas station cooler they called a refrigerator. "They wanna spend some time with the champ."

Nate shook his head. "Kinda just wanna chill." His voice was so quiet that Jay almost didn't hear him.

"We can do that." Jay set two beers down on the table and cracked them open. "We can chill today." He slid one to Nate. They clinked their bottles together and each took a swig, Jay's long and slow, and Nate's just a short sip tilted into his lips.

Zoey picked up Nate's fork and took a bite of his scrambled eggs.

"But tomorrow, you're gonna come watch me kick the shit out of the old man."

"You guys are training again?" Nate asked. It was the first thing he'd shown interest in since Jay had seen him.

"Yup. Of course, he's being an asshole. He's not getting me any fucking fights, but…" Jay stabbed at his scrambled eggs and shoved them into his mouth.

"You haven't fought in a while, Jay," Nate reminded.

"Yeah, but fuck that! Release the beast."

Zoey let out a quiet laugh, and Jay smiled at her.

"I fight, he gets paid. Right?"

Zoey watched as Jay's face fell while he waited for Nate to voice the opinion that never came.


	7. Chapter 7

A few hours after dinner, Jay had gone to the beach bonfire, and Nate was passed out on his bed from his night dose of the heavy painkillers. Zoey was just planning to check in on Nate for a second like Jay had asked her to, but she wound up sitting at the corner of his bed for a few minutes.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from his scar. It was raised a few centimeters off his head, and there was an excess of black thread poking out of it in little knots. She'd seen her fair share of stitches, growing up in an MMA gym, but these looked especially crude against her gentle brother's torn skin. Still, she preferred the sewn up version of Nate to the unconscious one with blood streaming out of his head. She shivered a bit at the memory and stood up as quietly as she could.

She made the mistake of looking back over her shoulder while she walked, and her foot caught on a tennis shoe that Nate had carelessly dropped. She lost her balance and slammed into his dresser, the force of it knocking a baseball onto the floor. She froze, waiting for him to say something, but there was still just the quiet sound of his breathing. She huffed out a small laugh – thank God for small mercies. Those must have been some damn strong pain meds, because Nate was usually the lightest sleeper in the whole family. She balanced the baseball on the dresser where it had been and took a moment to make sure it wasn't going to roll off. Then she slipped out the door and shut it quietly behind her.

It was nearing 11 PM, so Zoey figured she could take a shower and get in bed. She was proud of herself – she'd gone all day without self-harming. There was no need to push it by staying up too late. She'd just turned on the water in the shower when she thought she heard the front door.

"Jay?" she called, poking her head out of the bathroom.

No response.

"Nate, are you okay?"

Still silence. She stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the water running while she took a second to investigate.

"Jay?" She shrugged off her zip hoodie as she walked toward the front room. Suddenly, a hand wrapped around her mouth and grabbed her from behind. She shrieked, but the sound barely travelled. That wasn't Jay's hand on her mouth, and Nate's door was still shut. So who –?

Zoey jammed a hard elbow into her attacker's stomach. She freed herself for just enough time to scramble around in their grip and recognize sinister eyes and a buzz cut – Clint Walker. Her mind immediately snapped back to the way he had leered at her in the stairwell at Nate's fight on Friday. I'll be seeing you later, babe.

"NO!" she screamed, but Walker still had his hand clamped over her mouth. She tried to bite him, but he was too busy wrestling her to the ground for her to get a good shot in. "Let GO of me! Stop! STOP!"

As soon as Zoey was on the carpet, Walker picked her head up and slammed it down. The force wasn't enough to knock her out, but it was enough to incapacitate her and make her eyes water. Satisfied, the fighter shucked his jeans and boxers off. He roughly pushed Zoey onto her stomach, and then he grabbed her shorts and tugged them down to her ankles in one motion. Even through the fear and pain, Zoey was mortified. She'd never been naked in front of anyone outside of her family, and for it to happen like this was beyond humiliating.

It was odd, remembering something of use in a time like this, but there was a memory sounding an alarm in Zoey's mind. A few years ago, when Zoey must have been about 13, a story came out in the news about women that were getting strangled on one of the running trails nearby. One incident in particular stuck out to Jay, and he actually sat Zoey down and had a talk about it with her. He recounted the news story, and he told her he had something important that he needed her to always remember.

"If something ever happens to you," he'd said in his serious big brother voice, "you always keep fighting. Do not fucking stop, you hear me? You scream and bite and kick – whatever the hell you have to do, okay? Because they'll think you're not worth the trouble, and they'll leave you alone. And this lady? She was fighting, and she was winning. But she got tired, Zee. She got tired, and she stopped. And I understand that, I do, but I need you to always fight back, you understand me? You protect yourself when me and Nate aren't there, okay? You fight like hell. Don't let anybody hurt you."

He'd kissed her on the top of the head and hugged her for a long time after he finished talking, like she was the one that had been attacked instead of people neither of them knew. She remembered trying to brush it off and Jay putting his hands on her cheeks and saying, "This is fucking important." That had shut her up, but it was the look in his eyes, not his words, that had silenced her. She could still remember the expression on Jay's face, even now, as Walker held her down on the carpet. He pushed into her, and Zoey cried out in both pain and shame.

"STOP! Don't fucking TOUCH me!" she screamed, but Walker's hand was back around Zoey's mouth. He had gotten what he wanted – he was inside Zoey. She tried to scramble away, but he was pressing down too hard for her to move. The damage was done. "Nate, help! Please help me! PLEASE!"

Walker thrust into her, and it was a pain she didn't know was possible. She was mortified, hurt, and so dizzy from the throbbing in her head that she thought she might vomit. She clawed at the carpet for purchase, but there was none to be found. Walker kept smashing his hips into her, and her t-shirt rucked up her body around her ribs. Her entire stomach was going to be red with carpet burn soon.

"NATE, WAKE UP!" she cried, but the sound didn't travel at all.

Walker laughed at that through his heavy breathing. "Aw, big brother's asleep? Guess it's just you and me, sugar."

"Nate, HELP ME! Fuck, PLEASE! Stop, oh god, please stop. Please stop."

She tried to hit him, but it was to no avail. He had her pressed down hard on the floor, and he was behind her in a way that she couldn't reach him.

"Stop it, you little bitch," he hissed. He yanked her hips up to get a better angle, and her shirt bunched up higher.

Zoey ignored him and jerked her body this way and that, trying to free herself from his strong grasp. She kicked her feet and fought like Jay had said, but she wasn't getting anywhere. Nate was there, not 20 feet away from her, and he couldn't hear her screams. Goddamn painkillers. And she'd left the shower running – the water bill was gonna go up this month if she didn't turn it off soon. Jay was gonna get mad.

Zoey started crying then, a weak, surrendered sound. Maybe if she stopped fighting back… if she stopped, maybe he'd be done using her body sooner. And she was so dizzy… it hurt so much between her legs and on her stomach and inside her head. She closed her eyes and went limp, all the fight draining out of her.

"Now, this is what I'm talking about," Walker groaned. "You're even prettier when you cry."

Zoey could hear the conceited grin in his voice. She shifted slightly to try to relieve the burn on her ribs, and Walker mistook that for pleasure.

"You like it, you dirty little whore! Yeah, take my cock. What would your big brother say if he knew what a slut you were, huh, sugar?"

Zoey gave another feeble attempt at throwing a punch upwards and behind her. She wriggled a little, trying to squirm away, but Walker's fingers were digging harder into her hips with every thrust.

Thirty or so more seconds of this insanity passed. Zoey's brain had completely shut down, unable to process what was happening to her. Her body was still, and her mind was quiet. That is, until she started to physically respond to what Clint Walker was doing to her. She could feel her walls contracting against him, and she let out a quiet keening sound. She hated herself, had never hated herself so much in her life. She was burning with the force of it. What the fuck was wrong with her?

"Yeah, I can feel you getting wet for me, you slut," Walker moaned.

Zoey silently pleaded with her body to stop responding. How fucked up was she? She grit her teeth and waited.

Finally, Walker's hips stuttered, and he stilled. She felt a warmth fill her, and she immediately knew that he'd cum inside of her. She quietly sucked in a horrified breath.

He pulled out and let go of her face, and she scrambled away, yanking her shorts back up and rubbing at her jaw. She wanted to hit him, tell him how disgusting he was, and tell him that her brothers were going to rip his lungs out, but her fear was more pressing. More like all-consuming. Zoey was too afraid to move.

He hiked his pants up around his hips and then came towards her, grabbing her chin hard between his fingers.

Zoey wrinkled her eyebrows in fear and looked down at the floor.

"If you tell anyone about this," Walker growled, "I'm going to kill your brother and make you watch."

And then he was gone.

Zoey stayed on the floor for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. Her hands shook as she pressed them to the sides of her head. She looked over at her discarded sweatshirt, still lying where she'd dropped it when Walker had grabbed her. Her mind was reeling; that wasn't an empty threat. If he could… If he could do that to her, he would kill Nate, too. Zoey was sure of it.

A hot anger flooded through her at the thought – Nate had failed her. He wouldn't have been able to do much, doped up on painkillers with a gimp leg, but the fact that he slept through all of the screaming and struggling – Zoey found that unforgivable.

Zoey looked away from her sweatshirt and around the rest of the room. It looked so different now - smaller. The carpet was disgusting; there was probably sweat and cum embedded in it now. Zoey shuddered. She had to get out of this house. She ducked into the now-humid bathroom to turn off the steamy shower water, and then she stole Nate's bike, did her best to ignore the aching spot between her legs, and headed for Dad's house. She needed space. She needed to know that she was safe, that no one could just walk right in like Walker did at Jay's. She needed her sharp scissors and a place where she could shower as long as she wanted without worrying about the water bill.

The big house was silent when Zoey got there. She dropped Nate's bike on the grass outside and shakily tapped in the code to unlock the sliding glass door. She didn't bother to be quiet as she stalked up to her room and closed her door behind her. She heard footsteps coming down the hallway, and she recognized them as her dad's. He stopped in the hall – Nate's door must have been open, which would let Alvey know that it was Zoey that came over. He stood still for a moment, and then Zoey could hear his footsteps retreating back to his room.

She stayed motionless for a full minute, processing what had happened and trying to figure out what to do with herself. She'd gotten to a place she perceived to be safe, but that didn't mean she really was. Walker had filled her with his spunk, and she needed to get it out before… oh god. She'd seen Lisa's Plan B in the cabinet – she'd need to take some of that tomorrow. She'd get her hands on it as soon as Dad and Lisa both left for the gym.

Zoey turned on the shower and peeled her clothes off slowly while she waited for the water to get warm. She pressed two gentle fingers to her sore opening and sank to a crouch as she tried to process what had happened. When steam started filling the bathroom, she forced herself to stand up and wash off as much of Walker's DNA as she could. It was only after she vigorously scrubbed her body all over and washed her hair twice that she allowed herself to sit down under the steady stream. She wrapped her arms around her knees and remained there for what felt like hours, only getting out when the water ran cold. She toweled off thoroughly, rubbing her skin hard as if she could erase the memories by erasing Walker's DNA.

She still felt unclean.

* * *

When Alvey got up at 7 to go to the gym, he was expecting a quiet exit. He certainly wasn't expecting to find his daughter downstairs frying bacon and heating up waffles.

"Hi!" she chirped, keeping her back to him.

Alvey wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. "The fuck's going on?"

"Nothing! Just wanted to make you breakfast before you left."

He sat down on the barstool, trying to work out her motive. "Wh – are you in some kind of trouble?" he inquired. "Or, wait, I know. You're gonna ask me for money."

"Nope! I just wanted to surprise you."

"Well, I'm definitely surprised," he mused, smiling tentatively. He was already in a good mood, and his daughter getting up to make him breakfast was the icing on the cake.

Zoey was sure her father would be able to smell the reek of last night's sex on her, even after her 50-minute shower, but he didn't seem to detect anything. "Do you want some juice?" she asked.

"I'll get it, Zo. You've done plenty." He poured his juice, and when he closed the refrigerator, he noticed that all the furniture in the family room had been rearranged. "Whoa! Did you do that?"

She looked over her shoulder to see where he was pointing. "Oh, yeah. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, looks good," he answered, and he wasn't lying. It really did look better that way. More open. "When did you do that?"

"Last night."

"Last – what? Last night? What time?" He and Lisa had stayed up watching a movie till half past 1, and he hadn't heard a peep on the staircase.

"I don't know. Sometime after 4."

Alvey chuckled. "You get any sleep?"

"I don't think so," Zoey replied, and Alvey laughed again. "I rearranged my room, too, but then I moved it all back. It didn't look right. I wanted to do Nate's room after, but I didn't think he'd like that very much."

"No, baby, I don't think so."

Zoey looked at him sharply.

He held eye contact with her, unsure what had happened. "Hey, you, uh. You okay?" he asked.

She went back to the stove and plated her creation. She didn't answer.

"Thanks again," Alvey said after he'd taken a few bites. "This is delicious. But why don't you go up and get some sleep, huh? You look exhausted."

"I'm fine," she smiled. "I still have some more stuff to do."

"What, you gonna clean the fuckin' windows next?" he asked.

"I can if you want me to," she replied sincerely, "but I don't know how to get the upstairs ones."

"Zo, it was a joke," Alvey clarified, all traces of his earlier smile gone. He set his fork down. "You sure you're okay, kid?"

"I'm great," she grinned. She leaned on the counter and watched her father eat. "Whatcha gonna do today?"

Alvey stared at Zoey. She smiled back.

"Really. What the fuck's goin' on with you?" he finally asked. "You sick or something?"

"I'm fine, Daddy," she insisted, still smiling.

He tried to shake the weird vibe and changed the subject. "Hey, how's your brother doing?"

"Oh, he's great. He went to a bonfire on the beach last night. He was real excited about that."

"He WHAT?"

"Oh, you mean Nate!"

"Yes, I fucking mean Nate."

Zoey cackled. Alvey put his silverware back down again and stared at his daughter. He'd caught a hint of hysteria in her eye that made him uneasy. Something was going on past her exhaustion.

"He's great," she gushed. "Oh my god, he's so fucking great. He sleeps like a goddamn log!" She laughed and laughed, and Alvey stood up, uneasy.

"Get some sleep, Zo. Lisa's meeting me for lunch, so you'll have the house to yourself for a while. Try to relax, yeah?"

"Sure, Daddy," Zoey said cheerfully, but her back was turned to her father again.

Something was really wrong.

* * *

If someone told Alvey a week ago that he'd be sparring with Jay in the cage, he would have laughed in their face and told them to fuck off, but here they were.

"Come on, Jay. Do something!"

"I'm settin' it up, pops!"

"Come on, take me down, bitch," Alvey taunted. Jay slammed him up against the cage, but the coach was unfazed. "Take me down. Hips! Hips, muthafucka!" Alvey landed punch after punch on Jay's side. "Come onnnnn," he urged as his son struggled against him. "Hips, man. Hips. Hips. Jesus Christ, you're fuckin' weak. Where did you go?"

Alvey shoved Jay backwards to give him a break. Jay threw a few punches.

"Ohhhh. Is that all you got?" Alvey provoked. He threw some punches back.

Jay started quickly towards him, and before Alvey knew it, his son was landing a kick square across his chest. Alvey sprung forward and punched Jay so hard that, even through all the padding, Jay landed flat on the ground. A chorus of oohs filled the gym.

"Fucking kick me, man? You fucking kick me? That's what you do, get a cheap shot? You're a fucking cheat, bro?"

Jay stood up slowly, but Alvey wasn't about to give him a break.

"Come on. Come on. Throw kicks."

Jay ducked his head and ran at his father, but they wound up in exactly the position they'd been in before.

"Ah, geez. Oh, again? Again?" Alvey went back to emphasizing his words with punches. "You fucking kicked me. You've got no fucking length. You've got no snap in your fucking punches."

"Jay, fight back!" Joe Daddy called.

"Get the fuck off," Alvey commanded, shoving his son back again. "Motherfucker, you wanna kick? You kick me?" Alvey turned to the small crowd that had gathered at the edge of the cage. "Only fighters in here," he crowed, "only fighters."

Jay spat his mouth guard onto the ground and peeled his gloves off. He was walking out of the cage when Alvey said, "You got blood on my gloves."

"I want some fights," Jay responded.

Alvey took a second to process, and then asked, "What'd you say?"

"I want some fights," Jay repeated firmly. He was still panting, and there was blood dribbling down his chin and onto his tank top.

"Who's getting you fights?" Alvey inquired, still breathing a little heavily himself.

"I don't know, isn't that what you do around here?"

"Yeah, that's what I do. But I ain't picking up the phone for you again. You're here cause your brother wants you here, you know that."

"Thanks for looking out, Pops," Jay bit.

"Looking out?" Alvey repeated angrily. He leaned closer to his son and lowered his voice. "I got promoters that still won't call me back 'cause of you. You either don't show up or you don't make weight, or you show up and you're drunk."

"Yeah, and I win the fight. And it's the fight of the night, it's a fucking show."

"You're a dickhead, and that's dickhead behavior, and you're un-fucking-reliable," Alvey countered. It was hard enough just having Jay in the building. But having him think that he could come back and have everything magically return to the way it used to be? No fucking way. Alvey had moved on from his son's childish behavior, and he wasn't going back. "That makes me unreliable, and I can't get these guys fucking fights. They leave my gym." Alvey huffed. "Just stop fucking thinking about yourself all the time."

Jay swallowed and stared down at the mat. He'd been the one to raise Alvey's kids, and Alvey dared to call Jay selfish? Maybe Jay should have been mad, but instead, his father's words dug at his chest. He still couldn't see past the drinking and the drugs to the person Jay was underneath. Or maybe he just didn't want to see.

Alvey looked at Jay – he could read his son like a book. Always had been able to. He could tell Jay was truly upset. He sighed. "Why do you wanna fight?" he asked, his voice softer.

"Cause I have the heart of a lion."

"You need money."

"I need a fight."

"Show me some fucking consistency. Show me some fucking heart. Do that for me. Okay? Yeah?"

Jay fought a smile as he walked away.

"I'm not done!" Alvey called.

Jay turned back to him, and sipping the last of his energy drink.

"I want you to do me a favor," he said quietly. "I want you to tone things down, okay?"

"It's toned down," Jay replied, thinking his father meant the drugs.

"I want you to tone things down because I want your brother to rest," Alvey clarified. "Kay?"

"Yeah," Jay replied. He scratched his chin, unknowingly smearing the blood across it. "Have you talked to the police?"

"No, not lately."

"Cause, you know, they're not answering my phone calls."

"I'm up their ass. Don't call them."

"Think they'd do their fucking job," Jay said, pointing at his father and turning away.

"Don't call them, Jay," Alvey repeated.

"Alright," Jay answered, draining the last drops of his drink.

"Alright. They'll call me when they know something."

Jay set the can on the shelf by the door as he walked past, but Alvey wasn't having it. "Ay, throw that away. What is this, your house? Throw it away! Jay, I'm not kidding."

"You gonna get me a fight?" Jay teased, dangling the can over the trash can.

"Get out, get out," Alvey sighed, shaking his head. "Get out."

Jay took the can with him and smiled at Alvey over his shoulder before he slipped out the door.

* * *

Due to the workload at the gym's office, there was a change of plans – Lisa went into work mid-morning, and Alvey came home to eat lunch. He was greeted with citrusy, shiny floors, a spotless, organized refrigerator, and – no shit – sparkling windows. He shook his head and went about making a sandwich. He was nearly finished eating when he heard footsteps on the stairs.

"I saw you did the windows. They look nice, but the lawn needs mowing, too," Alvey joked when his daughter came around the corner.

She ignored his words and put on the same dazzling smile she'd been using that morning. "Oh, hi! I didn't know you were here; I would have made you something for lunch! Did you want anything else?"

"No, no," he protested as she started to sit down next to him. "It's alright, don't bother. I'm almost done."

She looked a little put out, but she stood up and moved to clean up the mess he'd left on the counter.

"I'll get that later, you don't have to-"

"It's fine," she insisted.

"Zoey."

She tilted her head to show she was listening but kept cleaning the counter.

"Honey, stop. Look at me."

She turned around and looked into her father's eyes for the first time in… she didn't even know how long. She looked at his face sometimes, yeah, but she avoided his eyes at all costs. She didn't want to see the disinterest housed there, so she had stopped looking years ago. It hurt too much. But now, there wasn't disinterest – what she saw in her father's eyes was concern, and she didn't know what to do with that.

"Are you alright? Seriously?"

She cleared her throat and looked down at the floors she'd cleaned a few hours before. "Yeah."

"Really? 'Cause you're running around like the fucking Energizer bunny. And while I appreciate you deep cleaning the house, I really do, it's making me a little worried, to be honest. I haven't seen you like this since…" He trailed off.

"I'm fine, Dad."

"Did you get any sleep?"

She hesitated and then shook her head.

"Why don't you do that, huh? Go take a nap, babe."

She shook her head again, a little vigorously this time. Her eyes were still downcast, but her father could tell again that something was really wrong.

"Why not?"

She was silent as she wrapped her arms around her stomach and ducked her head further down. "You should get back to the gym," she murmured. "Don't want Lisa to start worrying about you."

"Yeah, okay," Alvey agreed. He moved to clear his plate, but Zoey stopped him.

"Let me. Please." She hoped she didn't sound as desperate as she felt.

"Sleep," Alvey instructed before he slid the glass door shut. Zoey watched him leave, and she noticed he'd left fresh fingerprints on the inside of the door. Guess she'd have to clean it again. As soon as all the dishes were in the dishwasher, she reached under the counter for the Windex.

* * *

Jay got home in the middle of the afternoon to find the front door wide open and Zoey's sweatshirt thrown carelessly on the ground in the front room. Nate was snoozing in his bedroom, but his bike was gone. That was weird. He quietly closed Nate's door and unceremoniously pushed Zoey's open to let her know he was home, but her room was empty, and her bed didn't look slept in.

He shook his head and went to crash in his room. He was too drunk to try to put it together. When he woke up, the sun was setting and there was a text from Alvey. What the fuck is wrong with your sister?

Jay's blood ran hot. He dialed immediately.

"Hey," Alvey greeted tiredly, but Jay quickly cut him off.

"What the fuck do you mean, what's wrong with Zee?" Jay asked angrily. "Nothing's wrong with her. She's a great kid."

"Not today, she's not," Alvey rebutted, going straight for the defense. "She's been a nightmare all day – the cleaning lady from hell. She won't fucking stop. My whole goddamn house smells like a lemon, and all the furniture's rearranged, and my room is so clean I can't fucking find anything. And now – get this. She's sitting on my kitchen floor, drunk off her ass."

"Oh, please," Jay scoffed.

"I'm fucking serious!"

"Dad, she doesn't drink. She knows better."

"See for yourself. She's right here." Alvey moved away from the mouthpiece and put the phone on speaker. "Here, kid. Talk to your brother."

"Which one?"

"Jay."

"Oh, Jay! I love Jay."

"Yeah, I know ya do. Here."

"Hi, Jayyy," Zoey said into the phone. Her voice was too loud.

"Hey," he said shortly, trying to keep his patience in check. "What's going on?"

She giggled and then stage-whispered, "I'm in trouble!"

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"I, um. I drank Daddy's moscato."

Moscato got her that drunk?

"Tell him how much," he heard Alvey instruct in the background.

"Mostly it. I mean, most it. Most of it."

"It was full when she got her hands on it," Alvey explained. "There's definitely less than a quarter left."

"Why is she so drunk? It's just moscato."

"Zoey, tell him."

"Nuh-uh."

"Zoey."

"I don't wanna."

"Now, Zoey," Alvey commanded.

She sighed, and then her voice came out muffled like her hands were covering her face. "I took Daddy's Valium."

"What?!" Jay asked angrily. "How many?"

"Fffive."

He sat up in bed and threw the covers off his legs. "Zoey Grace, you'd better be lying to me! Do you know how dangerous that is?"

The background sound of the phone changed, and Jay could tell that Alvey had taken the phone off speaker.

"I'm coming over," Jay declared.

"Why?"

"I'm taking her home."

"She is home," Alvey argued, even though both men knew Zoey considered Jay's place to be home. "Don't take her over there. I don't need your brother dealing with this shit."

"Yeah, well," Jay huffed. "I'm coming over anyway."

"You weren't invited."

"She's my fucking kid!"

Alvey laughed. "Right. Okay."

"Lisaaaaaaa," Jay heard Zoey exclaim through the phone.

"I gotta go," Alvey sighed. "Don't come over. I have it under control."

"Yeah, Pops," Jay replied sarcastically. "You have it under control. Why the fuck did you call me?"

"You called me," Alvey pointed out.

Jay rubbed a hand over her eyes. "Give her water. And watch her, okay? I mean it. Take her to the hospital if you have to. If anything happens to her, it's on you."

"Calm down, tough guy." And then the line went dead.

"Fuck," Jay hissed.


	8. Chapter 8

"Lisaaaaaaa," Zoey sang as the older girl walked through the door.

Alvey was leaning against the counter talking into his phone, and Zoey was sitting on the floor at his feet, smiling too widely at her dad's girlfriend.

"What the hell is this? Zee, are you drunk?" Lisa laughed as the question came out of her mouth.

"It's not funny, Lis," Alvey grimaced, hanging up his call. "She drank my moscato, and then she took my fucking Valium."

"What?!"

Alvey set his phone on the counter and crouched down to wrap his arms under Zoey's shoulders and knees.

"He didn't hear me, Daddy," Zoey slurred softly, settling into Alvey's shoulder. "He didn't – he didn't hear me."

Alvey ignored her. He stood up with his daughter in his arms and walked with her to the couch's new location. "Can you get her some water?" he asked Lisa over his shoulder. He set Zoey down and explained, "You're gonna sleep down here tonight, cause I ain't carrying you up the stairs. I'm too old." He sighed at his daughter's puzzled expression. "You're in big trouble, do you understand me?"

"Why did you do that?" Zoey asked.

"Your head's gonna hurt worse if you don't drink the water. Which – maybe I should let it. But I don't want you to get sicker than you already made yourself."

"You picked me up. You… Why? You don't love me." She looked up at him through squinted, bewildered eyes. "You don't love me, Daddy."

Alvey stuttered for a moment, and his eyes met Lisa's across the kitchen. She was looking at him desperately, willing him to say something, anything, to correct his daughter's misconception. Several silent seconds passed, and Alvey couldn't figure out what to do. What was he supposed to say to that?

Lisa was giving him another look when Zoey drunkenly muttered, "You should have just left me on the floor."

"Is that what you think?" Alvey finally asked. "You think I don't love you?"

"I know you don't," Zoey responded, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You didn't want me."

"Wh – Zoey, no."

"There's too many years," she slurred. "You didn't want me. Too many years after Nate. And Mom left cause of me… You like boys, just boys. I'm a girl, and you hate girls. Just Lisa, not me. But I hear what you say about girls, and I know it's true about me, too. We don't know anything. We can't do stuff the way boys do. We're just s'posed to be pretty. Jay – Jay says I'm more, but I don't know if I believe him."

"Zoey, your mom left cause of me, not you kids. You know that. And I don't hate girls, honey. I just don't… I don't understand them."

Zoey laughed quietly.

"Your Dad loves you very much, Zee, I promise," Lisa said, coming over with water in a pink plastic cup. "He's just fucking terrible at showing it." She glared at Alvey and then turned back to the teenager. "Drink this, okay?" she said softly.

"But my stomach hurts," Zee mumbled, looking at Lisa with tired eyes.

"I know. This will help it stop," Lisa explained. She watched as Zoey took a careful sip.

"You can sleep after you drink it all," Alvey said wearily. He couldn't believe it had been so many years before he had to deal with this shit from his daughter, but at the same time, it seemed too soon. She'd always been a good kid. Something must have set this off, especially with the non-stop cleaning and the lack of sleep.

Lisa flipped the TV on and sat there while Zoey drank her water. Alvey dropped his head into his hands and shut his eyes. So that was it, then. He'd failed all three of his children.

A few minutes passed quietly, with the low, muffled TV dialogue as background noise. Zoey's cup was nearly empty when Alvey sighed and said, "Zoey, I do love you, baby. Very much."

She looked at him, her head tilted slightly to the side. "You love Nate," she stated slowly, her mouth struggling to shape the words.

Alvey nodded.

"And you love Lisa."

Alvey nodded again.

"But you don't love Jay, and you don't love me."

"I do," Alvey insisted, trying not to speak too loudly. "I love you and Jay very much."

Zoey looked at her father, trying to get him to understand himself. "No. You hate Jay, and you don't care about me. You never have."

"I don't fucking hate Jay," Alvey argued. He was trying not to get frustrated, but force was seeping into his tone. "I just don't like the shit he's done, that's all."

Zoey shook her head adamantly. "You're mean to him, and you ignore him, and you never want him around. Nate's right – Jay's the best. Why can't you love him like we do?"

Lisa was starting to put the puzzle pieces together; she figured it was time to jump in. Alvey was drowning. "Zee, you know Jay loves you, right?" she asked.

"Yeah." She drank the last sip and set the empty cup on the coffee table. She leaned back into the pillows.

"What's different between how Jay is with you and how your dad is?"

Alvey nodded at his girlfriend, thankful that she knew which questions to ask.

"Jay's nice," Zoey replied. "He hugs us. We leave our doors open at night when we go to bed so he can check on us without waking us up, and he closes the door after so we know he came by. He says 'I love you' every day."

"Every day?" Alvey interrupted incredulously, and Zoey nodded absently. She quickly put a hand out in front of her, as if to steady herself. After a moment, she continued.

"Yeah, in the morning and at bedtime and sometimes more if we make him happy or if he gets sad. He talks about our good stuff and he asks questions about school and he talks to Nate about stuff that isn't fighting and he always wants to hear about our day and all that…" She trailed off. "I miss him," she said, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"You're drunk," Alvey said, coldly dismissing her feelings and moving to stand up.

"Hey!" Lisa said sharply. "Listen to your daughter."

"No, don't," Zoey begged, tugging on Lisa's sleeve. "He wants to go upstairs."

"Why don't you believe your dad when he says he loves you?" Lisa asked, ignoring her.

Zoey looked down at her legs. "He doesn't care about us. Like…" She gave a garbled sigh. "He cares about Nate's fighting, but not Nate. He cares that I graduate from school, but he doesn't give a fuck that I come home crying some days. He doesn't listen when I talk, so I just stopped talking to him." She looked up at her father and slurred, "I'm almost 18. I won't be around to bother you for much longer."

Alvey huffed. "Go to sleep, Zoey. I'll deal with you in the morning." He turned back to Lisa. "You coming?"

"Later," she answered, a definite hint of annoyance in her voice. "I'm gonna stay with your daughter a while."

"Jay's a good daddy," Zoey murmured to Lisa when she thought her father was out of earshot.

Alvey heard, though – he stopped in the archway and bowed his head in sadness. He took a moment to compose himself and headed upstairs.

True to her word, Lisa sat in the armchair next to the couch until the younger girl had dozed off. Lisa curled her own hair behind her ear and walked away from Alvey's daughter as quietly as she could. The floor's creaks were quiet, but they woke Zoey regardless.

"Lisa, Lisa, I'm sorry," Zoey moaned softly.

"Shh, go back to sleep," Lisa whispered, going back over and lightly pressing her into the couch cushion.

"No – Lisa, please. Please."

Lisa leaned down next to where Zoey was lying on the couch. "What, Zee?"

"You're always so nice to me. You should stop. I'm not nice to you." Zoey was still slurring heavily, but her tone was like a child. "But I just – I realized last week that it's not cause I don't… like you. Cause I like you a lot, I do. You make my dad happy, and everything is better when he's happy. He's a nicer person with you. He smiles more. And you're pretty, and you can sometimes make Nate laugh, which is really hard. And you helped me with Jay when I didn't have anybody else."

Lisa tilted her head, wondering where she was going with this.

"But I'm sor-I'm sorry I'm so jealous of you. Cause my dad loves you, and he doesn't love me, and I try not to be sad about it, but I'm really sad."

"Zoey, Alvey loves you very much," Lisa said again.

Zoey was quiet for a few seconds, but then she mumbled, "Alvey. Alllllllvey."

"Go back to sleep," Lisa repeated. She draped the throw blanket over Zoey and watched as the younger girl burrowed into the cushion and closed her eyes again. Lisa flipped the light off and headed across the floor to the stairs.

"He didn't hear me," Zoey whispered into the darkness.

"What?" Lisa asked. She turned to look over her shoulder, but Zoey was already asleep.

* * *

"I mean, there was basketball," Wheeler explained as he walked with Alvey to the edge of the empty pool. "But there was a fight, and they hid the ball on us. And there's ping pong, but somebody broke one of the paddles, so now we can't play."

"You only had two paddles?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"No doubles?"

"Not unless you were on the same team."

"That's fucking depressing," Alvey chuckled.

Ryan laughed in response. "No, it's actually not that bad."

"It's not that good," Alvey retorted.

"It's not that good, no."

Ryan had just tucked his hands in his pockets when Alvey proceeded to act like he was going to push his former prodigy down into the drained swimming pool.

"Fuck, man!" Ryan startled, reaching behind himself to grip Alvey's arm. They both laughed again and stopped a few yards apart to stare down to the concrete ten feet below.

"How come you haven't come back down to the gym, man?" Alvey asked after a moment, taking a seat on the diving board. "It's been a couple weeks."

"Busy," Ryan sighed, crossing his arms over his black tshirt.

Alvey snorted. "It's not you, Ryan." He looked at Wheeler. "This place is not for you."

Ryan glanced at him and then down at the bottom of the pool. "Every day we, uh. We have these group sessions. We go in the big room, sit in a big circle. Guys talk about their lives, how they fucked them up…" Ryan chuckled darkly as he thought about it. "Things you wouldn't believe, like… Some of the most depressing shit I've ever heard. And I'm, like, looking around the circle like, what a bunch of fucking degenerates. And then I'm right there in the middle of it. I'm in that circle. Like, that's me."

Alvey shook his head as Ryan spoke. "That's not you," Alvey argued.

"Yeah."

"It's not, man. I appreciate what you're saying, but… you're not like the rest of these fucking mutts, though."

Ryan was unsure what to do with Alvey's words. It was like hearing a father who had too much hope in his son. Alvey was taking everything Ryan had been hearing and learning and trying to apply to his life to make things better, and he was squashing it all like a bug. Ryan didn't know how to react. This is what had happened last time he went to the gym, and it was exactly why he hadn't been back.

Alvey had such high hopes for Ryan, but he didn't understand that the Ryan from 2009 and the Ryan from 2014 weren't the same person. He needed the meds and the structure and the counselors and the stupid mantras to keep him from falling apart. He couldn't just go through life on instant gratification like he used to, he knew that now. Ryan was afraid to listen to Alvey, afraid of what he would do to himself if he started buying into what Alvey was trying to sell.

"But… I'm here," Ryan said, quietly fighting his coach the only way he knew how. Alvey had slammed him up against the wall and yelled at him in the past, but Ryan wasn't that guy anymore. He even spoke softly now. He wanted to be good, and he didn't need Alvey trying to sway him.

"You know, let's forget about the recovery bullshit for a second," Alvey said candidly, and Ryan huffed out an annoyed attempt at a laugh.

"Okay."

"I know it's not fair, but sometimes God gives some men just a little bit more." Alvey paused, reading Wheeler's face. "It's okay to be exceptional. It is. You hide from that? That's the fucking sin."

The younger man crossed his arms tighter across his chest.

"You got a talent that nobody else has. Why the fuck do you wanna be like everyone else?"

Ryan shrugged and cast his eyes down. He sat down slowly. "I just wanna be normal."

"Normal?" Alvey asked loudly, his voice echoing around the pool. He threw his arms out the sides, exaggerating his shock. "He wants to be normal?" He turned back to Ryan. "You're not fucking normal."

A silence fell over the men. The breeze blew, and the birds chirped. Ryan stared at his tennis shoes and waited for Alvey to lecture him some more.

"I got a plan for you," Alvey stated. "We'll bring you along nice and slow."

Ryan snorted and shook his head in disbelief. He needed time, he'd told Alvey that. But Alvey, as usual, was too excited to be patient.

"We don't even talk about a fight until you are rock solid on every level."

"No," Ryan said. "No. No. I can't get back to where I was. I'm not that animal."

"Yes, you can. You are that animal. Of course you're that animal. We throw a steak in front of the cave, you'll come right back."

That's what Ryan was afraid of.

At the look on his face, Alvey switched gears. "You're uh, you're not still hung up about Lisa, right?" Alvey asked. "We don't have to have that conversation?"

"Um… I'm… willing to talk about that. I certainly don't hold anything against you."

"Hold it against me? Why the fuck would you hold anything against me? You and Lisa were you and Lisa, that was… that was a long time ago."

"Yeah," Ryan said, agreeing halfheartedly. "I'm… I'm glad you were there, truly. You know, she deserves someone good after… me."

* * *

By the time Alvey got home from visiting the halfway house, Zoey had stumbled up to her room. The throw blanket and one of the couch cushions lay in a tangled heap on the floor, and the air smelled faintly of vomit.

Alvey went upstairs to make sure his daughter was still breathing, and he found her bedroom door halfway open and her body curled up on the floor. She was still wearing her tank top and yoga pants from the night before. He went back downstairs to grab a water bottle from the newly organized and spotless fridge and then returned to tend to his daughter.

"Hey," Alvey said, crouching down and gently shaking her awake. Her hands moved up to clutch her head, and she let out a soft groan. He helped her sit up and then handed her the open bottle. "Drink this. It'll help." He sat down next to her and leaned back against her bed. "What do you remember from yesterday?"

"Cleaning," she croaked. "Sitting on the floor drinking and not caring whether I got caught."

Alvey chuckled flatly. "Well, you got caught, princess. Is that all?"

She nodded and then tipped forward to drop her forehead into her hands.

"Why'd you drink all that? Huh?"

She shrugged. "It was sitting on the counter and it looked nice."

"What, you thought it was gonna taste good?"

"No. And it didn't."

"Then why'd you drink it?"

She was silent.

"Zoey." When it was clear she wasn't going to explain, Alvey sighed and shifted gears. "You said a lot of things yesterday. About me."

Zoey tilted her head at him.

"I just… I want you to know that I do love you, even if I don't show it the same ways as your brothers. Even when you do stupid shit like you did yesterday. And look, I know I haven't exactly been there for you and your brothers like I should have, I know that. I'm trying with Nate, and I'm gonna try with you, too, okay?"

She gave him a tired, crooked smile and nodded. He started to put his arm around her, but she leaned away. Her skin crawled, and sadness seeped through her – of course the one time her father actually made an effort to be affectionate, she couldn't handle it.

They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a moment before Alvey decided to fill it. "Look, princess. I know something's wrong," he stated quietly.

She tensed.

"You scrubbed my whole goddamn house top to bottom. And I may not know a lot, but I do know that's what you do when you need to shut your head up. You don't have to tell me what's going on, but you need to tell somebody, okay? Jay can help you."

Zoey shook her head.

"Yes, Zo. He already knows what happened yesterday; what can it hurt?"

Her eyes widened.

"You don't remember talking to him on the phone?"

Her face flickered through several emotions – relief, then sadness, and finally, she looked scared. "Is he mad at me?" she asked quietly, sliding out from under her father's arm and drawing her knees closer to her chest.

"I don't know."

She nodded slowly and huffed an emotionless laugh. "Fuck. The drinking thing is, like, his only rule with me. He's gonna kick my ass."

"I'll talk to him," Alvey assured.

"No, don't," Zoey replied quickly. "It'll just make him more mad. I can do it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Alvey stood up to leave. "Drink that water, okay? It'll help," he advised from the doorway. "And call Jay."

"Okay." When her father turned to leave, she said, "Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder at her.

"I, uh. I kinda hate it when you call me 'princess.'"

He laughed then, a real laugh. "I should've known," he murmured to himself. Then, to his daughter, "Alright. I'll remember that."

Alvey shut the door behind himself; Zoey was alone. She leaned her head back against the mattress and shut her eyes. That had actually gone okay.

She needed to brush her teeth. She needed to shower. She probably needed to throw up again. And she definitely needed to figure out what Jay knew about what had happened the day before.

Zoey took her time brushing her teeth. She stared at the lines forming under her reflection's eyes and the way her dark hair was all out of place and tried desperately not to think about Clint Walker roughly shoving his dick inside of her while she screamed for help that never came. She picked up the corner of her shirt and inspected the huge, pink rug burn that was still plastered angrily on her ribcage. She spit out the toothpaste, ran her fingers through her hair, and then swallowed all four of the Advil someone had left on her nightstand. She crashed onto her bed, avoiding the shower, and dialed Jay. Better to just get it over with.

He picked up without greeting her.

"Uh, hi," she said when she realized he wasn't going to speak. "Look, I'm really sorry. Dad said you, uh, that I talked to you yesterday? Or something? I don't remember."

Jay stayed quiet.

"Okay, well, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know drinking is a big deal to you, and I completely went against your rule. I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean to?" he echoed harshly. "Zoey. You can't be serious."

"I didn't! It was on the counter, and I just-"

"You just what? Huh? You just made a stupid fucking decision and now I don't know if I can trust you anymore. And taking Valium on top of it? You could have fucking died! I called Mac this morning, Zee. He said you could have fucking died. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I just wanted to…"

"Wanted to what?" When she didn't answer, he prompted, "Was it worth it?"

Yes, Zoey wanted to say, but she remained silent.

"I need to go check on Nate," Jay said bitterly, and the line went dead.

Zoey sighed heavily and turned over onto her side. Pressing her hands into her head wouldn't make her pain or memories stop, but cutting might, at least for a few minutes. She slid her nightstand drawer open and reached for her blue scissors.

* * *

Jay took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. He pushed himself up off the kitchen chair, filled up a glass with water, and, true to his word, went to make sure Nate was okay.

Jay's little brother was snoring lightly under the covers. His scar was still a harsh, prominent line of stitches against his head, but at least the pain meds knocked Nate out hard; that way Jay knew his brother wasn't hurting. He didn't want to think about what would have happened if – No.

He shook his head and walked up to Nate's dresser. He quietly uncapped Nate's bottle of pain pills, glancing over to make sure Nate hadn't stirred. It was habit – Nate was usually an incredibly light sleeper. It was odd to see him sleeping like a dog every day, but it was for the best – for the whole family, actually. It was hard to worry too much about him when he was resting so peacefully. Jay tipped the bottle into his hand and let two of the round, pink pills slide into his palm. He quietly replaced the cap and popped the medicine into his mouth, drinking deeply from the glass he'd brought in to make sure the large pills got all the way down.

Jay watched Nate sleep for a moment before walking across the room to set the rest of the water down on Nate's night table. His brother still had a black eye and a bruised, split lip. It was hard to say whether it looked worse from far away or up close. Between Nate getting beaten within a few inches of his life and Zoey drinking and taking prescription medication last night, Jay was about to lose it. He wanted to find the fuckers that did this to Nate and slaughter them. And he wanted to shake Zoey like a ragdoll until she explained herself. Both his kids had always been so obedient and good; neither incident stacked up.

Why would someone want to hurt Nate? And why so violently? This wasn't an accident or some kind of coincidence – there had been heat behind the attack. Why did Zee suddenly decide to start drinking? And why alone? He could write off partying as teenage rebellion. But not this. Not the fucking Valium. Jay was scared, and he needed answers before things got worse.

* * *

Ryan had been assigned chores in the kitchen. Again. It could've been worse – some of the cleaning stuff really sucked – but still, washing dishes wasn't exactly what he would choose.

Alvey coming to visit today had really thrown him off. Yeah, it had been nice to see a familiar face, but having all his progress called "bullshit" straight to his face was quite a blow. He had actually been doing pretty well, much better than he ever would have predicted of himself. He was still a dick on the inside sometimes, but he was managing his actions much better than he used to be. And he really was trying. Being clean was no picnic, but Ryan was getting by.

But then hearing about Lisa… Alvey was practically dangling her in Ryan's face, and he was expected to, what, just let it happen? Accept it and move on? No way. Lisa was Ryan's. Always had been, always would be. But what if… what if Alvey was right and Lisa really had moved on? Five years was a long time. A really long time. And it wasn't like she'd been holed up in prison, too – she'd been out in the world, and Alvey had been, too.

It made sense, the two of them together. Alvey had money and power and a real, steady job running the gym, and he was handsome… Lisa had always been a sucker for older guys, anyway. Ryan was none of those things. He was the same age as Lisa, and he was a broke-ass convict who could maybe pass as a 6 or a 7 if you didn't look at his cauliflower ears. Alvey was at least a 9, even at his age.

As the wheels in Ryan's brain turned, he was starting to realize all over again how little he really had to live for. He was maybe capable of fighting a mediocre fight, but that was only if he completely rebuilt his body and his skill set from the ground. Lisa didn't love him anymore and had moved on to loving another man. His parents hated him after what he'd done. It was going to be practically out of the question to get any kind of job worth actually keeping.

Any shot at a stable future seemed impossible. Ryan was alone. He had nothing. The drugs broke him down, stole everything. And the worst part was that he had done it all to himself.

He set down the plate he'd been scrubbing and opted for a knife instead. He shook the soap off of it and held it over his wrist. He'd done this before once, with a green, partially melted down toothbrush, but he knew that with a knife, he would be much more successful. The knife only trembled a bit in his grasp as he pressed the blade into the palm of his opposite hand. He'd learned through wrestling that there were several nerve endings there, and it certainly felt true as he slid the knife through his skin. Blood seeped out of the crack he'd made as a warm-up, but one of the other guys came in before he could make that coveted vertical slice.

Ryan dropped the knife back into the sink, cursing internally. He'd been so close he could taste it.


	9. Chapter 9

The next two weeks passed slowly in Venice.

Nate had graduated from crutches to hobbling around on his own. The knee brace they gave him at PT was huge and limiting, but he was glad that he didn't get so many stares anymore, especially now that his stitches were out. He really missed being able to ride his bike, though.

Alvey was a little lost in the gym without his son. He trained the other fighters like he always had, but he felt the loss of the dynamic he'd had with Nate and the relationship they were beginning to form. He missed the days Nate would show up unannounced with lunch in a bag for both of them. They'd eat in Alvey's office in near silence, but it was sweet. Nate was sweet. And that was something that was fucking hard to find in the savage world of MMA. Alvey appreciated his kid, but he was grateful that he had Ryan to shift his attention to.

Wheeler spent his free time at Navy Street working with Alvey and horsing around with Jay. It could be tense at times, and Ryan was treated differently than he used to be, but those things were to be expected. Between the drugs, the incident with his dad, and the whole Alvey and Lisa situation, Ryan was kind of surprised that they let him back in the gym at all, but Alvey was a sucker for good fighters, so back Ryan was. They started him out easy like Alvey had promised, just workouts and some form stuff. He hadn't been back in the cage yet, but the itch was starting.

Jay had mentally forgiven Zoey for breaking his rule, but he hadn't seen her even once since dinner on the day that Nate got home from the hospital. Nate told Jay that she wouldn't talk to him at all, which was odd – they usually communicated in some way every day. Even Jay and Nate's text messages to her were going unanswered. Instead of dwelling on what was going on with his absent sister, Jay threw himself into training and taking care of Nate. His days were long, and his body was tired, but that made for good sleep and fewer opportunities to use drugs. It was good, getting back in the gym and staying cleaner. Yeah, it was a tough adjustment spending so much time around Alvey, especially when he was so hard on Jay and Nate couldn't work like he wanted to, but the changes Jay was making were positive.

Zoey kept her distance from everyone. She'd moved herself back into her dad's place and was spending all her time locked in her room. She ate at odd hours, showered quickly in the middle of the night, and avoided all human contact. Her books were the only things keeping her sane. She kept her mouth shut and her brain busy. Any downtime led to thinking, which led to flashbacks, and flashbacks made her dreams worse – that is, when she actually slept. Walker had hit her head pretty hard, and she was still experiencing tension headaches that made rest nearly impossible. It was a good thing no one had actually seen her in a while, because she had developed purple lines under her slightly sunken eyes that were too stubborn to be concealed with makeup. Every day was harder than the last.

* * *

Fed up with the detectives still not answering his calls and Alvey not doing his part in harassing them, Jay decided it was time to pay another visit to the police station.

"Detective Gaines," Jay called, catching the man as he was walking through the waiting room.

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, kid. I got nothing for you."

"I need an update, man," Jay pleaded desperately.

"Listen, when I know something, we'll let you know something."

That wasn't good enough. Jay let himself get a little aggressive. "Well, are you doing something?"

"What do you want us to do? You want us to interview some witnesses?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, too bad. There aren't any. Except your brother. And either he can't talk or he won't talk, so we can't do shit." The detective sighed. "We know what you know. We probably know less than you know. As a matter of fact, what do you know?"

"I know if I could find these fuckers, I'm not gonna sit around your lobby all afternoon drinking fucking soda!"

The detective narrowed his eyes slightly, taking Jay in. "You know what? Now that I'm starting to look at you, this is getting reeeeal interesting to me."

"Huh?"

"I mean, why would somebody jump your brother? He seems to be a good kid. Got no enemies. But you on the other hand… You're a bit of a shithead. Maybe you got the enemies. Wanna talk to me about that?"

Jay looked at the detective with hard eyes.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Until your brother starts talking, we're at a standstill."

* * *

"Hey, Shelby," Lisa greeted tiredly as she walked into the lobby of Navy Street.

"Morning," Shelby replied, sliding the mail across the counter. "Uh, Alvey's in his office… he screwed up his knee."

"What'd he do?"

"He was doing deadlifts or something," Shelby shrugged.

Lisa rolled her eyes as she walked away. "Deadlifts?" she asked, stopping in Alvey's doorway. "At your age?"

He gave her a silly smile. "I'm fine. And I just tweaked it."

Lisa went over to him and set the mail down on his desk. "Have you ever thought about, I don't know, water aerobics? Maybe a brisk walk?"

Alvey shook his head at her. "So funny," he said sarcastically.

"Is Ryan working out today?"

"No, he texted me. He's stuck at some bullshit job. I gotta figure out how to handle him, too, I gotta… I gotta protect him."

Lisa swallowed. "Okay, well it's your thing. What do you wanna do?"

"I think I wanna close down the gym while he's training."

"No. Alvey."

"Couple of hours."

"You're killing me," she groaned.

"Just a couple of hours," he repeated firmly.

"Yeah, that's a couple of hours we're not making money!"

"I know, babe, but I've gotta manage this, okay?"

Lisa rolled her eyes.

"He hasn't been in a cage in five years. He's hesitant. He's got a lot of fucking eyes on him, you know. He's scared. I need him to open up, shake off the ring rust. And I can't have people saying, oh Ryan Wheeler. He's washed up, he's no good, he sucks, he's finished."

Lisa sighed and leaned over to kiss Alvey's temple. "Alright. Two hours, no more."

"Thank you!"

"Two hours, I'm serious!" she said over her shoulder as she walked out.

"Nice jeans!" he called after her.

* * *

"So other than the knee, we're looking at a separated shoulder, a cracked clavicle, and neck and back strain, right?" Nate's PT inquired. She was much younger than Nate had expected, maybe only a year or two older than he was, and she was definitely easy on the eyes.

"That's it."

"How much pain are you in?" she asked, pulling a chart off her desk. "Pick a face."

Nate raised his eyebrows at the silly piece of paper. It was decorated with several doodles of people with varying levels of stressed out expressions, each a different color to correspond to the pain they were feeling. It ranged from 0, a smiley face captioned "no pain" all the way to 10, a deep red screaming face that read, "worst pain possible – unable to do ANY activities due to pain."

"Um," he stalled, briefly studying his options. "The light green one. Number 2."

The girl gave him a look. "Mild is a goal. It's not a starting point. You should be at least a purple," she said, tapping the face marked "persistent pain – interferes with concentration."

"No, he looks like he's about to die," Nate replied. "I don't feel that bad."

The girl put her chart back down on her desk. "Well, maybe you've just gotten used to a certain level of pain."

Nate sighed softly. "Maybe."

"You can feel so much better than this. You just have to learn to listen to your body."

"Yeah, how long til I can start fighting?" Nate asked, talking over the end of her sentence.

She stared at him. "Look at you, already missing the point."

He held his ground, and she did too. He didn't show it, but he liked that.

"Okay, so before we get started, are there any other injuries that I should know about?"

Nate gently cleared his throat. "Yeah, uh. Three cracked ribs on this side, two on my right. Uh, cracked orbital, broken collarbone, a couple concussions. I ripped my left ACL, but it's fine now, though, it's been a while. And, uh, I keep spraining my ankle, but I think it's just how I run."

A small, incredulous smile spread over the girl's face. She shook her head at him, trying not to laugh. "Oh man, you're fucked."

Nate couldn't stop his own lips from shyly turning up at the corners.

* * *

Zoey was sitting under her blankets, rereading The Spectacular Now for what felt like the eighth time that week. She hadn't eaten since 2 AM, but Lisa was home again, so she'd missed her window to leave her room and get some food. It was alright though – she wasn't really even that hungry anyway. She could eat tomorrow.

She was in the middle of reading an argument between Aimee and Sutter when all of a sudden, a warmth bloomed inside her chest. She couldn't stop a smile from forming on her face, and her immediate reaction was to reach for her cell phone. She opened up her thread of messages with Nate and was about to tease him about whatever had just made him so happy when her eyes landed on the string of unanswered messages he'd sent her.

 **Wednesday 11:18 AM**

\- Did you go to Dad's?

\- Jay wants to know.

 **Wednesday 1:34 PM**

\- Zebra?

 **Friday 9:24 AM**

\- Hey do you know where I left my blue hoodie? I can't find it.

 **Monday 2:41PM**

\- Zee why does my arm hurt? Are you OK?

\- ?

 **Tuesday 5:25 PM**

\- Pick up your fucking phone.

Yeah, she'd better not text him about this. It wasn't important enough.

Oddly, that was becoming Zoey's entire philosophy on talking. Nothing she thought about felt important anymore, even merely important enough to warrant verbalizing. Not after what had happened to her. She'd kept her distance from her family, and she hadn't let herself sing in her room or even communicate with her so-called "friends" from school online. She'd thought about going to a party they were throwing – they'd posted on Twitter where they were going to be last weekend, and they were all drinkers. She knew she could hang out with them and not get caught getting drunk. But the thought of going out, getting dolled up, and having to actually interact with people – it was too much. Plus, she didn't want to deal with her dad getting pissy again or Jay yelling at her over the phone some more. Her brother didn't need any more stress than he was already trying to cope with, and she didn't want to be the cause of it again.

Zoey sighed to herself and slid her phone back onto her nightstand. She laid back into her pillows, closed her book, and tried not to think about that Tuesday night. Tuesday was her least favorite day of the week now. She used to dread Monday, or the alarm going off in the morning, or the nights her dad would insist she come home from Jay and Nate's. Now she dreaded everything. She dreaded Dad and Lisa being at the big house, dreaded nighttime, dreaded daytime. She dreaded her brothers trying to talk to her. She dreaded the kids from school. She dreaded eating and showering and brushing her teeth and sleeping. Especially sleeping. She had to sleep sitting up now because of the dreams. Everything had become a battle, thanks to what she was weak enough to let asshole do to her. Everything.

* * *

On Thursday afternoon, Alvey showed unannounced up at the halfway house again. Ryan found himself sitting across a table from Alvey with a checkerboard between them. Alvey was asking an awful lot of questions about Ryan's job even though Ryan knew that his coach wasn't interested in anything but fighting these days. He wanted to know where Alvey was going with all this.

"Yeah, it's fucking miserable," Ryan admitted. "But, you know, I gotta have a job, so… I have no choice."

"You've already got a job, dude. You're a fighter. This isn't your job."

"Yeah, maybe. But, I mean, my parole officer put me in this and I'm there all day, so."

"What's your parole officer's name?" Alvey asked, that signature smirk sliding back into place.

"Dantzler."

"Dantzler," Alvey echoed. "Alright, I'm gonna talk to Dantzler, I'll get you squared away."

"Okay," Ryan murmured. His blind trust in Alvey was back already, and it made him a little nervous.

"In the mean time," Alvey added, "do you need anything else? Are you okay in here?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Thanks," Ryan mumbled, casting his eyes off to the side and fiddling with the checker in his hand.

"This is fucking temporary, you know that, right? We're gonna get you back in the cage. This is a fucking blip." He studied Ryan the way he sometimes studied Nate, trying hard to figure out what was happening behind unreadable expressions. "Eyes up," he ordered.

Ryan glanced at him and down at the table.

"Eyes. Up," Alvey commanded slowly. "Always."

Ryan nodded at him, and Alvey nodded back.

"Good," the older man said as he moved a piece across the board. "Now, king me."

* * *

Lisa checked on the pasta bake she'd put in the oven and then went upstairs to let Zoey know dinner was almost ready. After the drinking incident, Alvey had told Lisa to leave his daughter alone, but too much time had passed, and Lisa was starting to get worried. It had been nearly two weeks, and Zoey was still totally withdrawn; even Nate, champion grudge-holder, would have come around by now. Alvey just wanted to sweep it under the rug, but Lisa had seen something like this before, and she wasn't gonna fuck up again.

Lisa opened the door to Zoey's room quietly. The younger girl was sleeping sitting up, her back against a pillow that she'd propped up on the wall. She was definitely a shade or two paler than Lisa remembered, and her jawline was more prominent. "Zee?" Lisa asked. "Zee, wake up."

Zoey's eyes flew open. She looked terrified and completely on alert, like Lisa calling her name from across the room was the same as a murderer breaking the door down.

"Whoa, hey, it's just me," Lisa said gently, putting her palms up. A beat of silence passed. "Are you okay?"

Zoey just stared at her.

"Zee? Are you sick or something?"

Zoey glanced down at the blanket that was pooled in her lap and fidgeted slightly. She didn't answer.

"Okay. Well, dinner's gonna be ready soon if you want some. I made that cheesy pasta casserole that you like. Your dad should be home any minute." At Zoey's continued silence, Lisa added, "I'll leave some in the fridge for you if you decide you want it later."

After a few seconds, Zoey nodded absently.

Lisa left Zoey's door cracked open and walked back downstairs to wait the last few minutes for the pasta. She set a place for Zoey just in case.

The way Lisa left Zoey's door broke something in the littlest Kulina's chest – emotions she hadn't felt in ages flooded her chest with such force that she reached up as if to physically hold herself together. She missed Jay. Oh, god, she missed him. She missed the way he made her laugh when she was feeling lonely and the breakfast he'd burn at 1 in the afternoon and the way he'd barge into her room in the evenings when she was in the middle of homework and force her to snuggle with him.

It was more than just missing Jay, though – she needed him right now. She'd been alone for the last two weeks with no company but Lisa, who maybe popped her head in once every three or four days. Zoey was sick of being trapped in this house with her father who'd already broken his promise to Try, but she couldn't find the energy to go anywhere or talk to anyone. Lisa at least made an effort every now and then, but they were empty attempts. It was easier to pretend to be nonexistent and invisible, but that wouldn't fly with Jay, no way. He would flop down next to her, squeeze her to his side, and tell her to start at the beginning.

She wanted so badly to call him and hear his voice, but a handful of things kept her from reaching for her phone. He was still angry with her, for all she knew. Yeah, it had been a while, but he'd left her completely alone, which wasn't like him. He must still be pissed. On top of that, Zoey still wasn't really in the mood for talking. She still hadn't said a single word since the talk with her dad. Nothing was worth saying. And, of course, there was the fact that Zoey was unclean. She still felt like she couldn't scrub Walker off of her – between the threat about Nate, the nightmares, the flashbacks, and the sticky mess of DNA he'd left between her legs, she was sure she'd never be rid of him. Jay would never want to speak to her again if he found out.

Zoey heard a car door slam shut outside; Alvey was home. She could hear him talking to Lisa downstairs, just muffled sounds, the pitch crescendoing quickly from soft to loud and then hushing back to quiet again. Zoey's mind was starting to wander when she heard her father's footsteps coming up the stairs. He knocked softly on the outside of her door and then pushed it another foot or so to lean on the jamb.

"Dinner. Come on," he said. "You're eating with us tonight, no more lying around. Lisa made that cheese noodle thing you like."

Zoey stayed still, her back pressed against the wall. She didn't want her father in her room, and she didn't want to talk or eat or have to even walk down the stairs. She wanted to stay in her room, alone, where she was safe.

"Come on," Alvey repeated. "Come eat." He sighed. "Do you even fucking eat at all anymore? Look at you. You're so skinny."

Zoey shifted uncomfortably and chanced a glance up at her father.

At the eye contact, he backed up a step. His eyebrows creased, and he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "Are you alright? What the fuck's goin' on with you, huh? You're like a damn raccoon in the attic. Stop hiding, okay? Come eat. Let's talk downstairs."

He started towards her. She knew he was going to touch her if she didn't move, and she couldn't have that. There was no way out of this.

Zoey crossed her arms firmly across her chest until she could grab a sweater from her closet to cover her cuts. The last thing she needed was her father finding out about that. One question would just lead to another…

She followed Alvey down the stairs, and Lisa looked surprised but pleased when Zoey entered the kitchen. Zoey's hands trembled as she sat down in her chair at the table. She wished Nate was sitting next to her, but he was probably mad at her, too. She'd ignored all those texts… Her brothers would be right if they hated her forever. She was dirty now. Worthless.

"Zee?"

She looked up to where Lisa had been talking to her from across the kitchen.

"I asked you if you wanted water or tea."

Zoey shrugged. Did it even matter?

Lisa brought the pitchers to the table to let Zoey choose. She was too nice, and Zoey felt it under her skin. Lisa didn't take shit from anybody. The things she tolerated from Zoey were things that she would never put up with if someone else tried them. Zoey was starting to get pissed. She shouldn't be an exception. She wasn't some weak little girl. Why couldn't Lisa see that? Lisa of all people should understand.

Lisa walked around behind Zoey's chair and pressed a cool hand to her forehead. Zoey felt like dying inside at the contact. She hadn't been touched since Clint Walker came in and -

"You feel a little warm," Lisa murmured. "Alvey-"

"She's fine," he replied, dismissing both her concern and his daughter's well-being. "It's just dinner. She's a big girl, she can handle dinner."

Lisa sat down, and Alvey waited until she picked up her fork to pick up his own.

Zoey didn't feel like she could move. The food in front of her smelled overwhelmingly strong, and the thought of trying to eat it made her stomach turn. She was exhausted and drained, and she didn't want to be down there with her father and his girlfriend. She could feel her father staring at her, but she didn't bother to look up.

"Eat. Lisa made this for you."

Her father's tone was harsh in her ears. She'd been used to the silence of her bedroom, and now forks were scraping on plates and teeth, and her dad was already aggravated with her…

Zoey forced herself to shakily pick up her fork and put a piece of penne on the end. She could tell both adults were staring at her, but she didn't try to smile. The pasta was rubbery in her mouth, and she chewed slowly. Just a couple more bites, she told herself. She just had to give the illusion of eating. She didn't have to actually do it. Then she could go back to her safe, warm bedroom, and she'd be alone again, and everything would be okay.

"Zee, do you want some garlic bread?" Lisa asked, trying to sound normal.

Zoey shook her head. She flinched as Alvey's fork clattered to the table.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Alvey asked loudly. "Why don't you speak? Don't be rude to her – she's going out of her way for you."

"Alvey," Lisa murmured, not taking her eyes off of his daughter.

Zoey narrowed her eyes at her father.

"Oh, what? No sarcastic comeback? Come on. You're a fucking recluse all of a sudden. This is ridiculous. Stop it."

I didn't even want to come down here, Zoey wanted to scream at him. Stop fucking yelling at me! Just leave me alone. But the words wouldn't come out. And that scared Zoey. It scared her a lot.

"Zee, are you sick?" Lisa asked again. "You don't… you don't look like yourself."

"She's not fucking sick," Alvey snorted. "She's just being a brat like her brother."

At that, Zoey smacked the table angrily with her palm.

Alvey chuckled. Lisa slowly brought a hand up to her mouth.

Zoey couldn't help it; she hit the table again. She was so angry she could taste it. She threw her napkin on the table and stomped up the stairs. She wanted to leave, but she was too scared. And for the first time, she had nowhere to go.

She slammed the door shut and flew into her bathroom. She turned on the hot water, needing to rinse the conversation off of her body, out of her mind. For the first time in two weeks, she stripped off her clothes without brushing her fingers over the soft spot between her legs. She just climbed under the scalding water. She would have yelped if her voice worked, but there was only silence. She left the water too hot, though – she deserved the pain.

* * *

It was a slow trip out to the slums even though rush hour was over; Jay seemed to be hitting every light. He shelled out three hundred bucks only to spend a handful of minutes with Christina, but it felt worth it somehow. He gave her the prepaid cell he bought her and showed her how to call him. His heart ached when he left.

Nate was out on the couch playing video games, and Jay was staring at his bedroom ceiling when his phone buzzed on his chest. Lisa's name flashed across the front.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hey, Jay." She sounded tense. "We've got, uh. We've got a situation going on here."

Jay sat up. "Is it Zee?"

"Yeah. Can you… look, I wouldn't do this, but your dad left me alone with her, and I don't really know what to do. I think she needs you. Can you come down here?"

"What's going on? Is she okay?"

"I think you just need to see for yourself."


	10. Chapter 10

"I'm going out," Jay announced smoothly as he sauntered through the front room.

"Okay," Nate replied, rapidly tapping on his Xbox controller and leaning around his brother to see the TV.

Well, that was easy.

Jay climbed quickly back into his truck and gunned the engine. He peeled out of the driveway and headed over to the big house for the first time since he dropped Zoey off there two weeks before. Alvey was waiting for him in the kitchen when he came in.

"Where is she?" Jay asked, and Alvey clapped a hand on Jay's shoulder.

"Lisa's upstairs with her," he muttered, shaking his head. He threw back a gulp of scotch.

Jay jogged up the flight of stairs. He could hear Lisa talking softly, as though she was trying to calm a scared animal. He followed her voice down the hall to Zoey's room. The overhead light was off, but the warm desk lamp was on, dimly illuminating one corner of the room. Lisa was crouched in the doorway of the bathroom.

"Hey," Jay muttered.

Lisa turned to him and gave a tight smile. "Jay's here," she told Zoey. "You wanna see him?" There was just silence. Lisa turned back to him and motioned him over.

Jay's stomach sank in fear. He didn't want to know what was around that corner. He peeked in the door, thinking maybe Zoey had been drinking again and was puking, but what he saw – he definitely hadn't expected this.

Lisa was on the floor because Zoey was curled up in a ball in the shower. The shower curtain was drawn back and Zee was naked, leaning her head against the tile wall with her knees pulled up to her chest. Jay could tell just from looking at her sides that she'd lost weight since he'd left her here.

"What the fuck happened," Jay breathed, looking at the shell of his little sister.

"Your dad yelled at her at dinner. She's running a low-grade fever… I think she's got mono. But I can't get her out of the shower."

Jay ran a hand over his hair and stepped forward to his sister. This wasn't the first time he'd seen her naked – they were a pretty liberal household when it came to privacy and nudity, not to mention the fact that Jay had literally raised the kid.

"Hey," he began, kneeling down next to the tub. He reached a hand out to run over her hair, but she flinched away before his fingers even got near her. "Okay," Jay murmured, understanding then why Lisa had been using that tone. He held his palms up in front of him. "Okay, Zee. I'm not gonna hurt you, I swear. Just… you're shivering. Aren't you freezing?"

"I tried that," Lisa sighed.

Jay ignored her. He reached behind himself, pulled a towel down from the rack, and stepped into the shower behind his sister. "It's okay," he whispered as she tried to shrink away from him again. "Shh, Zee, it's okay." He draped the towel around her shoulders and then maneuvered around to the front of her to squat. She buried her forehead in her knees, and Jay could see that it was out of fear. "You're not in trouble," Jay promised, and he looked to Lisa, willing her to confirm his words.

"Jay's right," she agreed, her eyes still on Zoey's brother. "Your dad's not angry at you. He's worried about you." It was a lie, but Lisa wished it could be the truth.

About a minute of silence passed. Zoey's shivering slowed under the terry cloth but didn't cease. Jay reached forward to tug the dry edges of the towel around her legs.

"Why was Alvey yelling?" Jay finally asked.

"She's been in her room the whole fucking time she's been here," Lisa began quietly, not taking her gaze off the girl. "She doesn't come out. She won't eat with us, won't eat at all, really. Your dad actually got her to come downstairs for dinner tonight, which was a fucking miracle in itself. But she didn't eat, and she wouldn't talk, and your dad wasn't having it. Like I said, he yelled at her. So she came back up here and got in the shower. That was over an hour ago, and when I asked her through the door if she was okay, and she didn't answer... I didn't know if something bad had happened, so I came in, and I found her like this. The water was really fucking cold, so I turned it off, but she still won't talk, and I can't get her to move. Your dad wanted me to just leave her here, said she'd get out eventually, but I couldn't."

Jay shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Lisa reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled it away. "Why didn't you call me fucking earlier? Like a week and a half ago?" he asked bitterly.

"I don't know," Lisa replied, sounding guilty. "Your dad didn't want me to. He said she was just being a teenager, and I believed him at first."

Jay scoffed. "Right. You know her, Lis. You know she's not like this."

"I thought she was just upset about Nate or embarrassed about the whole alcohol and Valium thing," Lisa confessed. "I guess I was wrong."

"Yeah, no shit," Jay bit back. He sighed and then softened his voice. "Zee, can you stand up?"

His sister remained frozen.

"Look, I know you don't want me to touch you right now, but I gotta get you out of here. You can stand up, or I can pick you up. What do you want to do?"

Zoey raised her head just enough to look at him. She looked exhausted – her eyes were slightly sunken, and purple lines had appeared underneath them. She blinked so slowly that it made Jay's stomach hurt. Her facial expression made the decision for him. "Alright, come on," he murmured.

He leaned forward in the tub and reached just far enough to wrap one arm around Zoey's back and the other under her legs. He lifted her to his chest and slowly stood up. Normally, she would either protest or sling an arm over his shoulders, but she stayed perfectly still. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he reassured her again, so quietly that he was almost inaudible, even in the echoing tile room. He stepped out of the tub and carried Zoey into the main part of her bedroom. He gingerly set her feet on the carpet and kept a tight arm around her waist to keep her from sinking back to the floor.

"I'm gonna change her sheets," Lisa said, and Jay chuckled darkly.

"No, she's coming with me."

"Jay."

"I'm not leaving her. Not again."

Lisa stared at him a moment and then nodded. "Here," she offered, opening a drawer and handing Jay a pair of underwear.

"She'll want pajamas," Jay noted, and Lisa nodded.

"I know."

"Something soft," Jay requested of Lisa as he helped Zoey step into her panties. "You got it, girl," he encouraged Zoey, a gentle smile on his lips. "We're gonna go home, okay? I'm gonna take you home."

Zoey dug her nails into Jay's forearm, right over his tattoo, and he looked up at her face.

"Ow, what? What? You wanna stay here?"

No, she didn't. Zoey didn't want to stay at her dad's for one more second. But going home meant walking through the room where Walker had… No. No. Zoey couldn't go home.

"Here, hold on, hold on," Jay instructed softly. He pulled a worn purple t-shirt over Zoey's head and, ignoring her resistance, tugged her arms through the holes. Then, even though she was far too old, he scooped her up like a child. He lifted her under the arms and fitted her against his front.

She had no idea the impact that the motion of him lifting her would have on her mind and memory, but it really did make her feel like a little kid again. And if Jay was there, if Jay was holding her, that meant she was going to be okay. She was safe and loved and taken care of. No scraped knee or mean girl on the bus mattered anymore. Everything was fine. She shut her eyes and lowered her head onto his shoulder, nuzzling her forehead against his neck.

"There's my girl," he whispered. "It's okay, I'm here now. I've got you. I've got you."

She rested her hands on his shoulders just like she used to. His skin was so cool against hers, and she wanted to melt into him and cry and tell him everything. It was as if all her pain had just disappeared, blown away with the ocean breeze. She was safe now. But before Zoey could make a move, the door creaked.

Zoey jumped. Her father was standing there, eyebrows raised as he looked at his children. Zoey blushed scarlet with embarrassment and slid down out of Jay's grasp. She crossed her arms protectively over her chest and looked down at the carpet.

"What's the verdict?" Alvey asked.

"She's still not talking," Lisa replied. Zoey had forgotten she was even in the room. "But Jay's taking care of her."

"Yeah, I can see that," Alvey remarked sarcastically. "She's not a baby, you know."

"I know," Jay returned easily. "But look at her, Dad. Just…. look at her."

Jay moved to brush some of her hair out of her face so Alvey could see her eyes, but Zoey flinched so hard that even Alvey was paying attention now.

"Zee, I'm not gonna hurt you," Jay whispered. "I promise. I would never hurt you."

Zoey ached inside. She pulled her arms tighter to herself and went to sit on the corner of her bed.

"What's wrong, huh?" Jay asked. "Did something happen?"

Zoey ducked her head and waited for the questions to stop. Jay, of course, wasn't bothered by her silence. He just wanted answers so he could make her feel better. She felt him come closer and crouch down in front of her, and she pulled her legs away from him. He shifted his weight back to give her the illusion of more space between them.

"Zee… I wanna help you. We all do, okay? But we can't do that if we don't know what's going on." He held the back of his hand to her forehead. "Lis is right, you're pretty warm. Do you feel bad? Is that why you don't wanna talk? Your throat hurts?"

Several seconds passed in silence.

"Okay, well. Can you tell me why you don't want to go home?"

Zoey stared hard at the carpet.

"Did something happen there?"

Fear flickered through her eyes.

Jay tilted his head, understanding. "Zee, what happened at home?"

More, longer silence.

"Did… did Nate do something?"

Zoey shook her head, and Alvey exhaled audibly in the doorway.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" Jay asked. "No matter what."

She remained silent.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Zoey looked up at him with wide eyes and firmly shook her head again.

"Okay, hey. Hey. I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to," he assured her. "I just don't know what you need right now. I wanna make sure I'm covering all my bases, right?"

Zoey nodded slowly, agreeing. She just wanted to close her eyes and sleep.

"I missed you," Jay stated playfully, tilting his head.

Zoey slowly lifted her right hand and drew an X over the left side of her chest. Jay gave her a smile and made the motion back.

"What's that?" Alvey asked.

Zoey climbed under her covers and propped her pillow up on the wall as Jay explained.

"Means 'I love you.' When she was a kid and I took her to kindergarten, she'd do that after she got out of the car before I drove away. We do it if Nate's asleep, too." He glanced at his sister. "Zee, wait. Your hair."

She turned around so her back was to him, and he grabbed the comb off of her nightstand. He started at the ends and then moved up to the roots, carefully dragging the comb in smooth strokes through her hair. "It's so long now," he observed.

She gave a slight nod and pulled one of her knees to her chest.

"You want a French braid?" he asked, leaning around to see her face.

Zoey shrugged and then nodded.

"I'll give you two," Jay smiled. "How's that sound?"

When she didn't answer, Jay glanced at Lisa and then at Alvey. They were both watching the exchange intently.

Jay parted Zoey's hair in the middle and started plaiting the very top. Alvey was expecting it to be a mess, but the sections were even, and the pattern was damn near perfect. As Jay wove, he spoke. He told her about what she'd missed at the house, what Nate had been up to, and the funny time that Nate had, in his painkiller-induced haze, tried to go for a ride on his bike. Jay claimed he'd had to wrestle Nate off of it and half-carry the confused boy back into the house. He talked about how when the first Wednesday without her came, they hadn't known what to do about dinner. Hadn't even thought about it. So they wound up ordering a pizza, but when it finally got to the house, it was cold. Their lives weren't really that interesting, especially when they were apart, but Jay could always make a mountain out of a molehill when it came to entertaining his kids.

"Hair tie," Jay requested again as he reached the end of the second French braid, and Zoey pulled the second elastic off her wrist and handed it over her shoulder to him. "Thaaank you. Alright, you're done." He gave two quick tugs on the right pigtail.

She turned slightly toward him, nodding her thanks as she situated herself against the wall.

"Are you gonna sleep?" Jay asked.

She nodded again.

"Like that? Is it comfortable?" She ignored him, but he moved over to the side a little bit to make more room for her legs anyway. "Alright. Hey, we'll go to the clinic in the morning, okay?"

Zoey shook her head, exhausted.

"I know you're tired, sweet girl, I know. But we gotta get you better, yeah? They can give you medicine and make it stop hurting."

Zoey swallowed thickly. This wasn't just some sore throat. No one could take her pain away.

"Get some sleep, okay? Lie down. Or – or sit back, I guess. You want me to stay til you fall asleep?"

Zoey shook her head – it could be hours, with the way she'd been sleeping.

"Okay," Jay muttered, trying to hide his worry. He stood up and walked to the doorway to stand with Lisa and his father. "I'll see you in the morning, yeah?"

"Night, Zee," Lisa bid from the doorway.

"Love you," Jay murmured. The door clicked shut behind him.

* * *

Across town, Ryan was brushing his teeth with his roommate, Keith. Ryan's eyes wandered away from the mirror and down to the little stuffed animal Keith always seemed to be carrying around.

"Don't stare at the bear," Keith muttered.

"Sorry, bro." The sound of toothbrush bristles scrubbing against teeth filled the air again for a moment, and then Ryan asked, "Do you bring him everywhere with you?"

Keith nodded. "He was a gift from my mother. The only time I didn't have him was when I was locked up."

"Does your mother come to visit you much here?"

"No, she's dead," Keith said easily.

"Oh shit, man, I'm sorry. When did she pass?"

"A couple weeks after she gave me the bear. I was almost 10." Keith's lips turned up slightly at the corners as he remembered her. "She was the best. She was the smartest person I've ever met, and she was only 32, so she was still very pretty. I don't mean pretty just because my mom, but pretty like if you saw her, you'd think, 'that's a pretty lady.'"

"Yeah." Ryan nodded around a mouthful of toothpaste. "That's pretty young, man. Was she ill?"

"No, she was fine" Keith replied. He spat into the sink and turned the water on. "My dad killed her with a hammer when she was asleep and then shot himself in the backyard."

Ryan's eyes widened in horror. He stood stock still, stunned, and stared at his roommate.

Keith sighed and turned to Ryan. "I'm gonna go to the kitchen and look for some yogurt. If I find some do you want any?"

"Um, no," Ryan mumbled, still shocked. "No, I'm great, thanks."

"Okay," Keith replied, and he disappeared out of the bathroom.

Ryan stared at his reflection in the mirror. Shit. Things with Keith made a lot more sense.

* * *

At Navy Street, Nate had found himself a spot on his dad's couch. He was messing with the clunky video camera Alvey had handed him a few minutes prior and waiting for instructions.

Alvey stopped scribbling, set down his pen, and limped across the room to the mini fridge.

"What happened to your leg?" Nate inquired curiously.

Alvey huffed. "I hurt it training," he explained, pulling a water bottle out. He looked pointedly over at Nate as he hobbled back to his desk. "And don't say anything smart." He settled back into his desk chair."What about you? How's rehab going?"

"It's good," Nate answered absentmindedly, not looking up from the camera.

"Yeah? You like your PT?"

"Yeah, she seems alright."

"She," Alvey grinned mischievously. "What's her name?"

"Tatiana," Nate replied.

"Come on," Alvey chuckled. "That's her real name?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess."

"Is Tatiana a hooker?"

Nate shook his head at his father as he laughed. "I don't understand how you get 'hooker' from that name."

"You can get 'hooker' from anything, son. Ta-ti-ana," he repeated slowly, clicking his pen. "Doesn't matter. As long as she's taking care of you. I need you healthy and training as soon as possible."

"Yeah, I know," Nate agreed. He cleared his throat. "Hey how's, um. How's Zebra?" Nate asked. It was the first time he'd mentioned her to Alvey since she'd moved back in with him two weeks before.

Alvey took a moment to form his answer. "She's… I don't know. I don't know."

"Well, what does that mean?" Nate asked sharply.

"She's just... not really acting like herself."

"Jay said she was drinking," Nate prompted.

"Just the one night. She hasn't done it since."

"Well, how come she won't pick up the phone when I call? She won't even answer my texts."

"She's not feeling well," Alvey replied, messing with the papers on his desk. "Look, your brother's taking care of her."

"Jay?" Nate asked, eyebrows raised.

"No, your other brother," Alvey deadpanned. "Yes, Jay."

"How? He hasn't even seen her."

"He spent the night last night. He's still at my place."

"It's that bad?" Nate asked quietly.

Alvey didn't reply.

"Dad."

The older man looked up at his favorite child.

"What's wrong with her?"

Alvey sighed and shook his head. "We don't know, son. Lisa thinks she has mono. She's been running a fever, I guess. Jay's gonna take her to a doctor today."

"This isn't that kind of problem," Nate muttered, looking down at his sneakers. "I can feel it, okay? I know you think it's bullshit, but I've felt her wake up in the middle of the night, and I know this isn't something medicine and a fucking pat on the back will fix. Somebody needs to fucking do something, cause this is only gonna get worse."

"We're working on it," Alvey assured quietly, surprised by his son's input. That was the most he'd heard Nate speak at once in several weeks. "And look. I may not have believed you before, but after Zoey started screaming in the middle of the gym and then directed me to the exact spot where you were bleeding out on the pavement… I believe you now."

Nate was a little taken aback at his father's account. Jay had definitely downplayed what had happened when Nate had asked him about it, then. There was no screaming in the gym in Jay's version of the story, and Dad wouldn't exaggerate about that.

Alvey settled back in his chair. "How's the camera?" he asked.

"Camera's a piece of shit," Nate answered, his voice still a little hard. He was thankful for the change of subject, though. "I could get a better image on my phone. We should just use that."

"We're not using your phone."

"Why not?"

"Because your phone is a pubic hair away from the Internet, and I can't have that video leaking."

Nate gave a small smile at his father's choice of words.

"We're using the camera," Alvey demanded.

Nate pressed the On button, and the small ding it made brought Nate back to birthday parties and holidays when his father and siblings all lived in one house. It reminded him of candy-filled piñatas and ice cubes clinking in lemonade and the smell of freshly mowed grass. His birthday was in late May and Zoey's was the first day of August, and the guys from the gym used to come down for barbecues, fireworks, pool days, and the Fourth of July, so it always seemed to be summer when the old video camera was pulled out. Nate ached momentarily for a night in the pool with sparklers and bang snaps.

He swallowed back the nostalgia before he spoke. "Camera it is."

* * *

Ryan was in the van heading to work when all of a sudden, the van was stopping and the big guy with the dominoes tattooed on his arm was sliding the door open. "Wheeler! Get out."

Ryan moved to the door and stepped out onto Navy Street. Alvey was standing in front of the gym waiting for him. Ryan watched the van pull away.

"What are we doing?" Ryan asked, confused.

"I got a locker set up for you. Go get changed," Alvey instructed, slinging his arm around Ryan's shoulders.

"No, no, Dantzler's gonna write me up, man," Ryan muttered urgently.

"Dantzler is taken care of, my friend," Alvey grinned. "Now, go get changed, and let's get ready to crank some nuts."

Nate was sitting in a chair, video camera in hand, talking to Lisa. The two were bantering lightly back and forth and smiling, but the happy expression slid right off Lisa's face when the two men walked into the gym.

"Bye, Nate," Lisa said, giving his good knee a light pat.

"See ya," he replied. He looked a little put out as she walked away.

She gave Ryan a cold stare as she went past him.

"Where are you going?" Alvey asked her, snagging her by the arm.

"You said you wanted the gym closed," she answered with a hint of defiance.

"Yeah, but not you."

Ryan walked over to Nate and the two fighters shook hands as they both pretended to ignore the hushed conversation happening next to them.

"Alvey, I'm not mad, I'm just. I don't need to be around for this." She gave him a quick kiss on the lips and headed out the door.

"Ay, where's my kid?" he called after her.

Nate tried to act like his ears didn't perk up at that.

"Jay's got her," Lisa responded over her shoulder. "They went to the appointment."

"Good, good. I'll see you later?" Alvey asked.

"Eventually," she replied flippantly as she disappeared from view.

"I'm gonna see you later." Alvey turned to Ryan and shifted gears. "Alright, Wheeler, let's go."

Ryan went into the locker room and his eyes widened when he noticed that Alvey had taped 'Wheeler' onto Ryan's old locker. He stopped a few feet away and stared at it as if mentally preparing himself to step back into his old life. Ryan continued forward and tried to open the locker, but it stuck. The memories poured back in, and Ryan had to suppress a smile. He punched the top of the locker door, and it opened in one try.

True to his word, Alvey had left tape, a roll of pre-wrap, a pair of gloves, and some new shorts. Ryan peeled off his jeans and shorts, slid on the new shorts, and set to work wrapping his hands. When that was done, the fighter stared at his reflection in the foggy mirror. It was unbelievable how much he looked like his old self. Ryan shook himself out, shadow boxed a little, and then went back out to the oldest and youngest Kulina men.

As usual, Alvey wasted no time. He had Ryan in the cage right away and stared boxing with him while Nate filmed. Of course, Alvey wanted his old prodigy put fully to the test, so he didn't give him an inch. Ryan was pretty sure that Alvey didn't even know what 'going easy' was.

In less than two minutes, blood from Ryan's forehead was trickling down his right cheek. He could feel several bruises forming, but he was more focused on proving himself to Alvey.

"Wake up. Come on, move your head. Come on, move your head, move your head. Ay, watch my foot. Yep." Both men grunted as Ryan smashed into Alvey on the cage wall. "Ryan, make me post down. Where's your head? Where's your head? Come on! Where's your fucking – come on, come on." Alvey put Ryan in a headlock. "Breathe. Relax. Breathe." Alvey let go of Ryan when the buzzer sounded.

"Fuck!" Ryan exploded.

Nate looked nervously at his father, subtly gesturing to the camera.

"Shut it off," Alvey murmured to Nate.

"I'm fucking exhausted, man. I got no flexibility. I got no flow at all, man! You've got fucking training wheels on me, and I still can't keep up!"

"Oh, come on, man," Alvey replied. "You've been away from the game for five years."

"Bullshit! Bullshit, Alvey! You're fucking worried, too! You think I don't notice why the gym is empty?" Ryan sighed. "You don't even want Nate to film me cause I fucking suck so much."

"Trust the process," Alvey said loudly.

"It's a waste of time," Ryan bit back.

"Trust the process," Alvey insisted.

"It's a waste of time!"

Silence fell as the two men caught their breath.

"Dude, I don't fucking have it anymore, man," Ryan chuckled darkly.

"This is ALL you got."

Ryan tried to laugh.

"This is all you got," Alvey repeated, quietly this time. "We got a long way to go."


	11. Chapter 11

After a quiet day of rest at Dad's, Jay managed to coax his little sister into the car. He drove her the eight or so minutes to the Venice Family Clinic and signed her in at the front desk. There was a moment of concern when he realized she'd wandered away, but it only took Jay a moment to locate her. She'd curled up in a chair in the sick waiting area. When he sat down next to her, she leaned into his chest and shut her eyes. He slowly wrapped an arm around her, giving her time to move away, but she didn't. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "They're gonna help you feel better," he murmured. "We'll get you back to normal soon."

Some kids' movie he didn't recognize was playing on the TV. It was some animated thing with snails. He would have asked her about it, but she was dozing off and he didn't want to bother her. He was supposed to be checking off boxes and scribbling down Dad's address on the clipboard they gave him, anyway. He really did want her to sleep if she could; they could potentially be waiting here all night. Appointments were hard to make, and now that it was afternoon, the waiting room was nearly full.

Jay stroked a hand over Zoey's hair while they sat, entertaining himself by people-watching. The room was populated mostly by Hispanics - lots of elderly adults and single moms with young children. Jay smiled at the kids when they looked over at him. One of the moms was looking sympathetically at Jay, probably thinking that he was a single dad. He nodded kindly at her and then went back to absently staring at the bright colors on the TV.

It was nearly 50 minutes before Zoey's name was called. He gently shook her awake and they walked together to where the volunteer nurse was waiting for them.

"Hi," she smiled.

"Hey," Jay replied. "Is it okay if I come with her? She hasn't been up to talking."

"Are you related?"

"I'm her big brother."

"Come on back," she said, motioning with her hand. They walked down a buttery yellow hall. "Alright, miss Zoey. I'm gonna have you step on the scale real quick."

Jay's eyes widened slightly as the number settled on the display. "We need to get you a Big Mac," he joked.

The nurse gave a light chuckle. "See what the doctor says first." She led them to a white room with a framed photograph of a school of fish on the wall.

Jay lifted Zoey up onto the table like a child. She leaned back against the wall and shut her heavy eyelids, and he took a seat on the low bench. The nurse opened her laptop, clicked around for a moment, and asked, "What brings you in today?"

"You wanna tell her, or you want me to?" Jay asked.

Zoey just looked at him tiredly.

"Alrighty then." Jay turned to the nurse and forced a tight smile. "Obviously, she's not talking. She sleeps at all hours, and she's felt warm. My dad doesn't have a thermometer in the house anymore, so I'm not sure about a number, but I'm pretty sure she has a fever. Also, she hasn't wanted anyone to touch her."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, she kinda flinches away if your hand goes near her," Jay elaborated.

The nurse nodded and typed for a moment. "Any vomiting?" she asked Zoey.

Zoey shook her head.

"Okay, good, good. Does your throat hurt?"

Zoey shook her head no and then, as if she'd changed her mind, she shrugged.

"When did her symptoms start?" the nurse asked Jay.

"My dad's girlfriend said a couple weeks ago. Why they didn't do anything about it, I don't know." He caught himself and quickly added, "Usually they take great care of her. I think they just thought she was being a teenager. It's the beginning of her summer, so I guess it seemed normal for her to be asleep all day." It was a white lie, but he didn't want Zoey sent into the foster system. They'd had a handful of close calls already, and Jay didn't want to deal with social workers again.

"Any other symptoms?" the nurse asked as she rapidly typed.

"I don't think so."

Zoey tapped on the table to get the nurse's attention. She put a hand to the top of her head and moved it to her forehead and then around to the back.

"You're having headaches?" she asked. "Migraines?"

Zoey nodded.

The nurse typed some more. "Alright. Let me take your temperature and then I'll send the doctor in, okay?"

Zoey dutifully opened her mouth for the thermometer, and they all waited silently until it beeped.

"Yeah, sweetie, you're running a low fever," the nurse stated. "I'll let the doctor know we're ready for her, okay? Feel better, baby."

"Thanks," Jay said, since Zoey couldn't. He looked over at Zoey when the door closed – she looked irritated and hurt. "You okay?" he asked.

Zoey wordlessly turned away from him and laid down. The paper crinkled loudly underneath her. Jay ran a hand over his face and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

 **Wednesday 5:04 PM**

J: I feel bad for taking her out here shes so sick

Lisa only took a moment to reply.

L: What's going on?

J: She slept on my shoulder the whole time we waited and now we're in here and she's falling asleep again  
J: They said she has a fever youre probably right about mono

L: They'll help whatever it is. She'll be back to normal soon.  
L: Are YOU okay?

J: Yeah this is just hard to watch especially with Nate hurt at the same time. And she won't even talk

After a short hesitation, Jay added.

J: Zee's my baby

L: I know :( Hang in there, big brother.

Zoey let out a small cough, and Jay looked up at her. She caught his eye and started to sit up, but Jay murmured, "No, no, it's okay. It could be a while. You can sleep, Zee." He shot a sad face emoji back to Lisa and opened his Solitaire app.

Zoey had been asleep for about twenty minutes when there were three quick raps on the door. The doctor pushed the door open, and Zoey didn't even move. The woman eyed Zoey and then gave Jay a sad smile. "That bad, huh?" she asked.

Jay nodded. "Yeah, she's had a tough few weeks." He stood up to wake his sister for the second time in half an hour. "Zee. Hey, Zee, wake up. The doctor's here."

She sat up slowly, rubbing lightly at her eyes.

"Are you good to wait in the hall?" the doctor asked Jay, her voice not unkind.

"She can't really talk," Jay explained as Zoey sat up.

"That's alright. There are many ways to communicate."

"Yeah, okay," Jay conceded. "Zee, you good?"

Zoey nodded hesitantly at him through half-lidded eyes, and he disappeared out the door.

The doctor spent a moment running through the symptom list the kind nurse had typed up, and then she was feeling Zoey's throat and shining a light in her eyes. "If it was mono, it looks like you're through the worst of it. Your throat and your lymph nodes look fine, so I'm not going to put you on an antibiotic, but drink plenty of water. Juice and tea are fine, too. And Gatorade. Sleep as much as you need to, okay? That's your body's way of fighting the virus."

Zoey nodded, glad not to have been given medicine that her body didn't need. Jay couldn't afford it, and he was far too proud to ask Dad to pay for it. Zoey thought she was done and started to get down from the table, but the doctor stopped her.

"You haven't been talking lately? What's going on, baby?"

Zoey looked at the woman, trying to decide what to say. Her lips were sealed, but she wanted so badly to tell the truth.

"Sometimes people stop talking when they're under a lot of stress. And sometimes they see something bad, or something bad happens to them, and that makes them stop talking, too. Does that sound like anything you've been dealing with?"

Zoey slowly shrugged.

The doctor nodded, understanding. Her eyebrows creased together.

"Is it hard to be around people right now? Have you been wanting to isolate yourself?"

Zoey nodded. She looked at the floor in embarrassment.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," the doctor insisted warmly. "What happened, whatever it was – it's not your fault, sweetie."

Zoey nodded. If only that could have been the truth.

"The silence is a coping skill, but that coupled with not letting people touch you… that's really concerning to me." She looked at Zoey, really looked at her. "Did somebody do something to hurt you?"

Zoey was frozen. What the fuck was she supposed to do? Just say yes? That felt impossible. But she didn't want to say no, either. Perhaps her silence could be enough of an answer.

"Is someone in your family abusing you?"

She quickly shook her head no.

"Did somebody touch you?"

Zoey's breath caught in her throat. She swallowed thickly and tried not to change her expression.

"Zoey? Sweetheart, whether or not you tell me what's going on, I have to report this."

Anger surged through the littlest Kulina, and she didn't want to be in the room anymore. She slid off the table and headed for the door.

"Zoey, I can help you. Please talk to me. I can –"

But the door was already swinging shut.

Jay watched Zoey storm down the hall before he poked his head in to see the doctor looking upset. "Everything okay?" he asked.

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, uh. Yeah. She should be okay in a week or two. Lots of fluids and rest." She looked at him strangely. "Take care of her, alright? Keep her safe."

"Will do," Jay replied. He glanced down to the end of the hall where Zoey was waiting for him and then looked back at the doctor. He hushed his voice. "Did she say something?"

"Patient confidentiality," the doctor reminded.

"Yeah, but she's my little sister. She's a minor, and I take care of her. I just want to help. Did she say –"

"I'm sorry. I really can't tell you anything," the doctor insisted. "Here," she said, reaching into the pocket of her coat for her business cards. "One for you, and one for her. Call if either of you need someone to talk to." She sighed tiredly. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I have patients waiting." She brushed past him and walked the other way down the hall.

Jay jogged to catch up to Zoey. "Hey, monkey. You okay?"

She nodded tightly, arms crossed over her chest.

Jay went to wrap his arm around her, but she stepped away, just out of his reach. "Okay," he muttered sadly, pushing the door open for her.

The appointment had run a little longer than Jay had expected, and he only had time to drop Zoey off at Alvey's if he was going to get to the bar on time. Jay felt bad leaving her there by herself, but he had to pay the rent, and he wasn't going to make it if he didn't go into work tonight. Tanya paid a little over minimum wage, and it was an easy job with long hours. It's not like Jay was missing out on sleep, and Zoey would probably just shower and lie down anyway. According to Lisa, Zoey had been sleeping at all hours, and Jay had now seen that firsthand.

Zoey had been even less responsive in the car on the way home from the doctor. It sucked knowing that Zoey had maybe actually told someone what was really going on and Jay couldn't even hear about it. That doctor knew something – Jay could feel it. But why wouldn't she tell him? It's not like Alvey was going to do anything to help Zoey. Jay was the one that was always there, and Alvey never was. How was Jay supposed to make anything better if he didn't even know what was wrong?

* * *

A few hours passed uneventfully at the bar. Jay was leaning on the counter talking animatedly to Tanya when Lisa walked in. He glanced up and let out a howl of surprise. Lisa held out her arms and laughed. She was wearing her cream "Good Luck Charm" tank top, and Jay knew what that meant. "Well, now it's happy hour!" he crowed. "What are you doing here?"

"Your dad closed down the gym today to train with Ryan, so I thought I'd throw some booze down my throat," she giggled. "How are you doing, are you okay?"

"The jury's still out on that one," he joked.

The two embraced, but Jay wouldn't let go. He dramatically swung her back and forth.

"Get off me, you weirdo," Lisa laughed, giving him a playful smack.

He leaned in to peck her on the cheek before stepping out of her space. "Boy, look at you. You got that look," he grinned.

"What look?"

"You know that look."

"Jay, I don't have a look!"

"That fun time, party time Lisa," he sang, dancing around her. He slapped the bar top. "Sit down. We're drinking!"

"Yes, we are."

Jay put on a silly accent and turned his attention to Tanya. "Barwoman, get this lady a drink, please!" He cleared his throat and switched back to his normal voice. "Drinks are on me. Put 'em on my tab."

Tanya scoffed. "Tab, my ass. And get your ass to the fucking door. You're working"

"Pfft! Look. I'm doing it. I'm going. That's where I'm going. I'm out of here. Look."He turned his attention to Lisa. "You keep drinking."

"I'll do that."

"Alright. I will be back at my leisure, mama bear."

"Here you go, sweetie," Tanya said, placing a glass onto the counter and pouring Lisa a shot.

"Thanks, mama." She downed the whole thing in less than a second.

* * *

Ryan stayed at the gym for a few more hours than he had planned. The van from the halfway house didn't show up at Navy Street til after 10pm. Something must have gone wrong at the job that would have kept them out so late. Lights out at the house was at 11, so they were never back from work after 9. Keith would be worried.

"We'll hit it again tomorrow, alright?" Alvey asked, slapping Ryan's hand when it was time for him to go. "You're exactly where you're supposed to be."

"I'll be better tomorrow," Ryan promised.

"Maybe. Or maybe you'll be worse. Let go of perfection. Trust the process," Alvey repeated.

He was so calm and supportive and loving that Ryan ached inside. It had been years since he was spoken to with so much kindness. He'd forgotten how good it felt, and he was afraid he might get used to it. He ducked his head and buried his hands deep in his pockets.

"Trust your coach, yeah?" Alvey asked.

Ryan nodded fervently. "Yeah."

"Alright. Night, Ryan."

"Goodnight."

Alvey checked his phone on his walk to the car. He had a missed call and a voicemail from the Venice Family Clinic requesting to speak with him as possible. Shit. He'd have to call them back in the morning. That is, if he remembered.

* * *

Jay was standing in the doorway of the bar staring at the TV when a quick shot of the night's forecast popped up. Oh, shit. He shot Nate a text.

 **Monday 11:24 PM**

J: _Hey dude it's going to storm in half an hour_

He immediately got a message back.

N: _When are you coming home?_

J: _Not til at least 3 I'm working at T's_

N: _Do you think I could hang out with Zebra?_

J: _Maybe. She had a long day but she might be awake still_

N: _I'll check. I'll be at Dad's either way. Thanks for the heads up._

J: _She misses u I'm sure she'd love to see you_  
J: _Just so u know shes not feeling well so if shes sleeping leave her be_

N: _Yeah Dad said. I will._

J: _See you tomorrow be safe and call if u need anything love u_

N: _You too._

Nate got up from the couch and quickly stuffed some clothes and his laptop into his Nike duffle bag. He pulled on a sweatshirt, tucked his phone into the front pocket pocket, and slung the bag over his shoulder. He hurried to the front yard and headed for Dad's. It would have been much quicker and easier to take his bike, but his knee was still too fucked up for that.

Nate didn't even know why he was seeking out Zoey for company during the storm – she'd been a fucking terrible sister lately. Maybe she was sick, but it would have taken her two seconds to send him a goddamn text message. It's not like he wasn't going through his own shit. It didn't have to be about her all the time. Big, angry clouds filled the night sky and blocked the few visible stars. Nate walked faster.

Alvey was in the kitchen drinking wine when Nate got there.

"Hey," Alvey greeted, eyebrows raised. He wasn't expecting to see his son until the morning. "What are you doing here?"

Nate shrugged. "Jay's working. I got bored."

"He's working?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't know he had a job," Alvey commented casually, but Nate knew he was fishing for more information.

He shrugged noncommittally.

"You goin' up to see your sister?"

"Uh, yeah, I was gonna see if she's awake," Nate admitted.

Alvey got up and opened the fridge. "Here, give her this," he said, tossing him a plastic container of yogurt. "See if you can get her to eat. I tried a couple hours ago, but she wouldn't take it."

Nate held it up, snorting. "Are you serious?"

"What?"

"She fucking hates yogurt."

Alvey's face fell. "Oh."

Nate moved to the cupboard. "You got Cheerios?"

"Yeah, I think. Lisa eats them sometimes."

Nate moved around the kitchen, pulling out a bowl and a silver spoon and a gallon of milk. He shook a generous helping of the cereal into a bowl. He used one of Jay's old tricks and poured the milk into a glass instead of directly onto the cereal in case Zoey was asleep. That way if she was, nothing would be wasted.

"You want a drink?" Alvey offered.

Nate nodded. His father passed him a beer bottle, and he tucked it into his elbow. He shouldered his duffle again and picked up the cereal and the glass.

"You're a fucking good brother," Alvey observed, watching Nate juggle his things and Zoey's.

Nate looked at his father, careful to keep his expression neutral. Several seconds passed in silence. "Thanks," he finally muttered. He had always known he was a good brother, especially to Zee, but getting that reassurance from his father meant more than he cared to admit. "Night, Dad."

"Goodnight, son."

Nate walked up the stairs and went straight to Zoey's room. He shifted the glass of milk a little and knocked softly. "Zebra?"

There was some shuffling, and then his sister pulled the door open. They stood there, each taking the other in. A slightly uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Finally, Nate spoke.

"It's, uh. It's gonna thunder and Jay's not home."

Zoey gave him a small smile and opened the door wider. She went to sit back on her bed, and he followed.

"I haven't seen you in a long time," he said, handing her the cereal bowl. He wanted to say more – That's the longest we've ever been apart. Why wouldn't you talk to me? What the fuck happened to you? I can feel how upset you've been, but don't you care about what happened to me? I missed you. – but he kept his thoughts to himself.

She looked down. She could read into his words, and she felt immensely guilty for harboring so much anger towards him the past two weeks. Nate hadn't meant to sleep through what happened, and he certainly would have done something to help if he was capable. Now that she was looking at him, she remembered that. He would never willingly let anyone hurt her. Zoey felt horrible.

"You don't feel like talking?" Nate inquired, pouring the milk from the glass into the Cheerios.

She shook her head casually and picked up the spoon.

Nate cracked his beer open and took a long drink. "That's okay. I know how that goes."

Zoey was hit with another pang of guilt.

Just then, thunder rumbled in the distance. Nate's eyes slid to the window, but his little sister was already moving. She reached up to lock the windows and pull the white shades all the down. She turned her desk lamp on, and then she pulled an extra blanket off her closet shelf. She sat back down on the bed next to her brother, grabbed her phone off her nightstand, and opened a note. It's OK, she typed. She gave him a reassuring smile. If she could help him now, maybe it would make her feel better, too.

Nate nodded and swallowed. He knew his fear was stupid, knew that other people weren't nervous about storms like he was, but he couldn't help it. For his entire life, he'd hated thunder. He could ignore it if he really had to, but it was hard. Jay and Zoey already knew, so it wasn't worth it to keep it from them. They always wanted to help anyway.

We're safe here. The clouds are just boxing, remember? :)

That's what Jay used to tell Nate was happening. Some people told their kids that the angels were bowling in Heaven, but Jay knew that Nate would understand the MMA parallel, even when he was little. Nate remembered his big brother bouncing around the room shadow boxing and then dramatically pretending to be hit. "And then BOOM! The one angel PUNCHES the other angel. IN THE FACE! And since they're angels, they're super tough, so they hit really hard and it's super loud to us humans."

"Do they ever get knocked out?"

"Pshhh!" Jay had scoffed. "Totally! They're really strong, Nate. I bet they knock each other out all the time. KO!" Jay flexed then, and Nate eagerly flexed back. Jay ruffled Nate's hair. "That's right, little buddy."

Rain started dripping outside the window, first softly and then harder. Within a minute, it was pouring. Lightning flashed bright outside the window like a camera, and Nate started counting in his head. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi… He got all the way to 12 before thunder rumbled again. "Twelve miles," he stated.

Nate reached into his bag and pulled out his laptop. Zoey watched as he clicked around on it until he pulled LOST up on Netflix. He picked season 2 from the pull-down menu without needing to ask her. It had always been their favorite. She watched over his shoulder and pointed when he scrolled to episode 9. What Kate Did was always one of her favorites.

"I'm shocked," Nate quipped, but he clicked on the episode anyway. He pushed the laptop back a few inches and listened as Zoey crunched by his ear. She ate quickly, like she hadn't had food in days. For all Nate knew, that might have been the case, especially now that he knew Dad was pitching peach yogurt to her. He was glad he came over.

Thirty seconds into the episode, there was another flash of lightning followed by more thunder. Nate wiped his palms on his shorts. He could feel Zoey watching him for a moment, but once she deduced he was alright, she went back to her cereal.

Zoey finished eating and leaned behind her brother to set the bowl down on her nightstand. She picked up her phone and typed out, Thanks.

Nate nodded in reply.

Another minute or two passed, and just when Nate was starting to get distracted by the show, a loud clap of thunder exploded overhead. Nate stood up and crossed the room, and Zoey followed him down the hall. The two jogged down the steps and just around the corner. They sank to the ground under the staircase in perfect sync.

Nate looked over at his sister, who put two hands up slowly as if to say, relax. Just then, Nate's phone started buzzing in his pocket. It made him jump again, but he quickly recovered and dug it out of his shorts.

"Hello?"

Jay's concerned voice filled his ear. "Hey, little man. You hanging in there?"

Nate's voice was tight. "Yeah, I think so."

Lightning flashed through the glass windows, and a bang of thunder followed it almost immediately.

"Shit," Nate hissed, unconsciously leaning closer to Zoey.

"Hey, it's okay. Remember, it's just the –"

"The fucking clouds boxing, yeah. Zebra said."

"She's awake then?" Jay asked.

"Yeah. We're sitting under the stairs."

"My little cave dwellers," Jay mused. "Put me on speaker."

Nate pressed the button on his phone. "Okay, it's on."

"Hey, Zee. You take care of your brother, you hear me? Both of you, listen. Lisa's with me at the bar. I'm planning to take her home when I'm done here, cause she's already hammered. Leave your doors open if you want, and I'll come by before I go, okay? I gotta get back to work, but I love you guys. And Nate, seriously – call me if you need me."

"Sure, man."

"Love you," Jay said again.

"We love you, too."

When Nate hung up the call, Zoey showed him her phone screen. I'm gonna go get the blanket, she'd written. Do you want anything else?

"My beer."

She grabbed all the stuff from her room and was headed back to Nate when she nearly crashed into Alvey on the landing.

"Are you drinking again?" he asked sharply.

Zoey shook her head, eyes wide.

"Where are you going with that?"

Her hands were full with the fluffy blanket, so she motioned downstairs with her head.

"Is your brother down there?" he asked, and she nodded. He moved to let her pass. "Ay, no sleeping down there, you hear me? Come upstairs and sleep in a fucking bed. You're not at Jay's." Zoey nodded, but that wasn't enough for Alvey. "Nate, you hear me?" he asked louder. He was tense, probably because Lisa still wasn't home.

"Yeah."

"Goodnight, you two."

Zoey walked carefully down the stairs and handed her brother his beer bottle. He downed a big gulp as Zoey wrapped herself in her blanket. She stared at his scar, and she couldn't help herself from reaching out and touching it. Nate winced a little but allowed her to examine it. Her fingers ran up and down the thick, raised tissue several times before she stopped and pulled her hand away. She fumbled with her phone and then slid it toward him.

I'm glad you're okay.

Nate didn't say anything.

Thunder cracked at the same time as a bolt of lightning lit up the room. The storm was right over them. Nate exhaled heavily, and he could feel how badly Zoey wanted to speak, to verbally comfort him.

"Can you pull up the radar?" he asked, giving her something to do.

Within a few seconds, she was handing him her phone again. A mess of red covered the entire county. Fuck.

Nate shut his eyes, and Zoey took her phone back. She tugged his hand toward her and started tracing shapes on his skin. It was only after she made the same shape twice that he realized she was writing something.

"Wait, start over."

 _S – O – R – R – Y_ , she wrote.

"For what?"

She pointed outside.

Nate shrugged.

She made a face at him. He could feel a sassy yeah right radiating through her mind.

Thunder boomed so loudly overhead that the panes of glass shook in their frames. Nate inhaled quietly and dug his fingers into his palm. Zoey wrapped her hand around his wrist. Her skin was so warm.

"I'm okay," Nate lied stiffly.

Zoey didn't let go.


	12. Chapter 12

"I, me, Lisa will get you a fight," Lisa insisted. She was drunk off her ass, but Jay always humored her. And maybe he was a little drunk, too.

It was nearing 2:30am, and the storm was over, which meant that the bar was nearly empty.

Jay was sitting across from his dad's girl at a booth, pouring her shot after shot. "No, you, Lisa cannot," he retorted, laughing a little.

"Yes I can, you fucker! Do you know what a tragedy it is that you're not fighting? I mean, what. You're a bouncer? In this shitbox? No offense, Tanya."

"Uh-huh," Tanya replied sarcastically from across the room, shaking her head as she wiped down the counter.

"That's like… like Picasso painting murals on the side of a fucking Kindergarten." Lisa sighed and leaned forward. "Jay, you're really good. You're as good as anybody in the gym. You're just. You know. Kind of an idiot."

"Yeah… that is a fucking very valid point," Jay agreed, ducking his head.

"So stop doing idiot things!" She sat back and lit a cigarette.

Jay sighed in defeat. "Alvey's not wrong, Lisa," he admitted. "Nobody wants to put me on a fucking card. I pissed off a ton of promoters."

"Do you want to fight?" Lisa asked, ignoring him and blowing smoke through her nostrils.

Jay leaned in. "Fuck. Yes. I. Do."

"Then if I get you a fight, and I put my ass out on the line, you're not gonna leave me or not show up?"

"I swear," Jay muttered, "on my mother. I'm not just gonna show up, but I will murder any motherfucker you put in front of me."

Lisa stuck out her hand. "Deal."

The two shook and finished with their signature handshake.

"You fucking little hustler," Jay mused as Lisa grinned and downed another shot. "It's very sexy. Very attractive. I see why my father makes love to you every night after supper."

Lisa glared at him.

"Is he not gonna be… wondering where you are?" Jay asked.

"Yes," she said slowly, her voice unlike anything Jay had heard from her in years.

"Are you just fucking with him cause of Ryan?" When Lisa nodded, he continued, "I think it's bat-shit crazy that he's at the gym. But this is just me, you know, a man, saying this right fucking now… you don't let the wolf through the front door. I mean, shit, Lisa. He pretends like he doesn't want to fight. Then why is he back at the fucking gym?"

* * *

"Alllllveyyyyy," Lisa called through the glass door. She tapped her nails playfully on the large pane. "Alvey, I don't have the keys, I'm so sorry."

The oldest Kulina had dozed off on the couch with a magazine across his chest waiting for her. He stood up and walked the few feet to the front door.

"I've got a delivery," Jay announced. "A nubile young woman for a virile, much older man."

"You're not nice," Lisa laughed, reaching up to cover Jay's mouth as Alvey unlocked the door from the inside.

"How much has she had to drink?" Alvey asked.

"She's had exactly," Jay began, but then Lisa stumbled. Both men quickly reached for her, but she caught her own balance. "Whoa, that much. Hey, uh, are the twins upstairs? I told them I'd come by when I got home."

"I told them to go up there, but I didn't check. They were still under the stairs last I checked. And for the millionth time, they're not twins, Jay; they're four years apart."

"Whatever," Jay grumbled. "Was Nate okay?"

Alvey looked at him in confusion. "Yeah, why?"

Jay quickly shrugged, covering for his brother. "Eh, no reason." He was starting for the stairs when he decided to say what was on his mind. "Hey, you're driving her to drink, man. You should put a bucket by your bed."

Alvey sighed and nodded. "Alright, yeah. Thanks for driving her home." He watched as Jay peeked around the corner of the stairs and then headed up them. Once Jay was out of sight, Alvey turned his attention to his girlfriend. "Hey, do you want some water?" he asked

"No, fuck water," Lisa replied. "Fuck – fuck water."

"Fuck water," Alvey repeated. "Okay. Let's go to bed. Come on."

"No. He's right. You're driving me to drink."

"I know, baby," Alvey nodded. "I'm a shithead."

"No, you can't just run over what I'm saying! You gotta listen to me," Lisa moaned. Her slurring was out of control.

"Okay, but can we talk in the morning?" he asked.

"No! If you really were listening to me, then Ryan wouldn't even fucking be here." Lisa punctuated her words by smacking Alvey hard in the chest.

"Whoa, easy girl," he murmured, laughing, his hands automatically up to protect himself.

"He wouldn't be here and you would – you would hear me."

"Alright, let's not do this right now. Let's – tomorrow. I promise you we'll talk about Ryan tomorrow. Okay? Come on, baby, you're drunk. Come on."

A beat passed, and then Lisa looked up at him. "I wanna have sex," she whispered.

"What? No, you don't wanna have sex."

"Yeah, I do," she playfully insisted.

"No, you don't wanna have sex," Alvey repeated, laughing again. "On the couch?"

"Yeah, on the couch," Lisa slurred, laughing too.

"Come here," Alvey said, lifting her over his shoulder.

"You come here! Wait, wait, Alvey no. Alvey, put me down. I'm gonna throw up. This is not good."

"You need sleep. Sleeeeeepy-sleep. Come on."

Upstairs, Jay crept down the hall. Zoey's bedroom door was shut, but Nate's was wide open. Jay peeked in. Zoey's nightlight had been plugged into the wall near the closet, glowing softly as both kids slept peacefully in Nate's bed. The covers were bunched up around their waists, and they were breathing quietly with just a few inches of space between their backs, as usual.

Jay smiled softly at them before going over to bid them goodnight. He knew he shouldn't, and he knew he'd most likely wake Nate, but he couldn't help himself. It had been so long since the three of them had been together, and Jay was worried sick about both of his siblings.

He went to Zoey first. She was curled up on her side, still dressed in the thin, light gray t-shirt she'd worn to the free clinic that afternoon. Jay laid his hand on the top of her head and pressed his lips to her forehead. She still felt hot. "Love you," he murmured.

He walked around the other side of the bed to Nate. The younger boy's eyes were already partially open, like he'd just woken up.

"Hey, man," Jay whispered, running his hand over his brother's hair. It was starting to grow out now that he didn't have to shave it for fights anymore.

"Hey," Nate replied, his voice thick from sleep.

"Shh," Jay hushed. "Remember Zee's in here."

"She's burning up, Jay," Nate murmured with a yawn. "What's wrong with her?"

"I took her to the clinic this afternoon. The doctor said she has mono. 'S why she's sleeping so much. But she can't give it to you like this, so it's fine. How was the, uh. The storm?"

Nate snorted quietly. "Fuckin' awful."

Jay sat down carefully on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry, dude."

Nate sighed, rolling onto his back. His shoulder brushed Zoey's back, but she didn't stir. "God, she's like a hundred degrees," Nate complained, but he left their skin pressed together.

"Did she do okay tonight?"

"She was fine. She still didn't say anything, but other than that, she seemed pretty normal. She was starving, though. Apparently Dad keeps trying to give her yogurt."

Jay huffed.

"Yeah. I brought her some Cheerios, which she inhaled."

"Good. The kid needs to eat. She's lost like 8 pounds in two weeks."

They were quiet for a few moments. Jay thought Nate was falling back to sleep until he asked, "Why doesn't she talk anymore?"

"I think she just doesn't feel good."

Nate shook his head. "I don't know, man. I think it's more than that."

"Well, let's give her some time, yeah? I'm sure once she starts feeling better, she'll start talking again."

Nate tried to be frustrated, but he was too tired. "Yeah, okay," he mumbled.

Jay leaned down and ruffled his brother's short hair. "It's the middle of the night. Get some sleep, okay? Love you, Nate."

"You, too," Nate replied, letting his eyes close again. He knew he was too old, but he still found comfort in the fact that Jay stayed by his side.

Jay sat on the bed until Nate was fast asleep again. He crept quietly out of the room and into the hall where he shut the door silently, an art he'd mastered many years previously. Then he headed down the stairs and through the sliding glass door to his truck. He wanted to drink even more than he already had, but he'd worked all night and he was supposed to drive Nate to an appointment after lunch. It was already nearly 4 AM.

Jay sighed to himself. Back home it was. Being a responsible adult sucked (that is, if anyone in their right mind could call Jay a responsible adult). He stripped to his boxers, made himself a box of macaroni, and watched Nick at Nite until he passed out on the couch.

* * *

Jay woke to the screaming sound of the blender, which meant Alvey must've driven Nate home to Jay's on his way to the gym that morning. Jay grudgingly stood up from his spot on the couch and headed for the sunny kitchen.

The blender stopped, and sweet silence filled the air. As Jay came around the corner, Nate punched the blend button again. Jay stopped walking, drawing his hand up to his forehead, and waited. A few seconds later, there was another glorious silence. Jay continued into the kitchen only to be hit with the sound of the whirring blender once again. He rubbed one hand over Nate's chest and smacked Nate's hand off the button with the other. "It's fucking blended," he declared.

Nate smirked in amusement.

"What time did you get home?" Jay asked, dipping his hand into his boxers and scratching his ass.

Nate smiled, shaking his head. "Nine. You were snoring so loud I almost put a sock in your mouth, but I decided to be nice."

"Wow, I appreciate really that," Jay replied sarcastically. "Was Zee still sleepin'?"

"Yeah. She didn't wake up even though I was moving around and getting ready, so I just left her there." Nate poured his smoothie into a shaker bottle and held the pitcher out to Jay. "Here, you want the rest?"

"Oh, yeah." Jay nodded and took it. "Wait, come here."

"What?"

"Come over here, Nate."

Nate obliged, and Jay sniffed him deeply. Nate backed up, but Jay stood up out of his chair and followed him. He wrapped a hand around Nate's neck and fitted his face in the crook of Nate's shoulder. He breathed in through his nose. Nate pushed him off.

"Oh, you smell exquisite," Jay teased. "What is this? I'm, like, walking through the woods right now. I'm getting, like, a – a Christmas cone? You smell like a, like a yummy little vanilla?"

"Yeah, it's soap," Nate replied cheekily. "I took a shower.

"Soap," Jay mused.

"Oh, yeah."

"Where are you going?"

"I got physical therapy," he answered. He took a sip of his smoothie.

Jay leaned over the sink and made a throaty noise.

Nate knew what he was doing without looking and wrinkled his nose.

"You got a little crush?" Jay asked, righting himself and easily slipping back into his conversation.

Nate leaned away a bit as Jay started sniffing him again, but Jay was too quick.

"Stop. Let me just – stop," Jay argued as he circled his arms around Nate's neck. He slipped him into a chokehold, even against Nate's protests. "Let me just get one more whiff."

Nate pressed his chin down and elbowed Jay hard in the stomach. That set Jay scrambling back for the sink and vomiting again. Nate rubbed a hand over Jay's bare shoulder in apology before he walked out the door. "You're an idiot," he grinned. "I'm just gonna go ahead and go. See ya later."

"Yeah, yeah," Jay mumbled, reaching for a paper towel.

"Feel better!"

"Have a great day, Nate," Jay grumbled. He groaned quietly as he collapsed into his chair.

* * *

Lisa collapsed onto Alvey's couch, sunglasses still on her face. He smirked up at her.

"Sorry about last night," she apologized.

"You were wasted," Alvey laughed. "I haven't seen you like that in a lonnnng time."

"I think it's just gonna take me a minute to get used to having Ryan here."

Alvey nodded and then made eye contact with his girlfriend. "Me, too," he admitted. He leaned forward on his desk. "I'm a fucking bully. I'm a bulldozer. But I hear you, okay? I do."

"Do you?"

"Yeah. I love you. I don't exist without you, you know that. This place? It's me and you."

Lisa sighed. "Alvey, I can't clean this up. I mean, you're creating this emotional and professional clusterfuck that I can't untangle."

"If Ryan fucks up one time, he's out. He's gone. We move on. Case closed. I promise you that."

Lisa sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay."

* * *

Another week passed, and Zoey finally started to feel ready to return to Jay's house. She still wasn't speaking, but she was spending more time with Nate and returning to more normal patterns of sleeping and eating despite her persistent fever. She watched movies with Nate in the early afternoon until they dozed off lying on opposite sides of the couch.

Alvey found them sleeping like that every few days after he got back from the gym, their feet stuck in each other's faces as the DVD continued rolling on the screen. He let them sleep, though – he was starting to see how, in a strange way, just spending time together was helping each of his kids to heal. Jay was right; Alvey's two younger children really did need each other. Alvey would just mute the TV and snap a quick photo.

When Jay wasn't training, he was working. He'd smoke some weed, and working at Tanya's would be even more of a breeze. Cleaning out the front yard started to seem easy. His house became beautiful when he was high, so there was no reason not to keep it fucking pristine.

Jay still missed constantly having Nate around, though. He didn't like that both his kids were at Alvey's, but he knew that they needed each other. And for some reason, Zoey still hadn't been back to Jay's even though Nate said she was acting much more like herself. It had been three weeks – was she really still mad at him for yelling at her about the alcohol thing? Jay didn't think so after the way she'd acted around him when she was sick. Still, he was desperate to know what was going on with her.

Every day he was at Dad's, Nate was struggling. He couldn't fight anymore, he couldn't train, and he was starting to question who he even was without the constant grind. The first few weeks, he had been angry. But now that the fire inside him had cooled down, he was starting to get anxious. He still didn't want to get a job, but he wasn't making money anymore. He'd gained a few pounds – nothing anyone would notice outside of maybe Zoey or Jay – and that made him nervous, too. He didn't know what he was supposed to do or where his place was in the world. Sitting around making scrambled eggs and playing video games wasn't a life for anyone.

While he waited for his life to sort itself out, Nate watched his sister shed the thick, protective skin she'd cloaked herself in. He tried to coax her back to her old self whenever he could, and in some ways, he succeeded – he got her to the beach one day, down to the ice cream stand again. They hadn't been since the blowout fight with Dad, and it was better to go sit by the ocean and be happy.

Zoey dressed in street clothes and brought a book, and Nate wore board shorts and brought his headphones. They sat back in the hot sand and tanned, and Zoey wound up not even reading but just watching the Mexican kids playing. They were building a sandcastle, which used to be Zoey's specialty. They were trying to pile dry sand on top of more dry sand, and it wasn't working. The base wasn't strong enough.

A few minutes after she'd finished her ice cream cone, Nate noticed her staring and nudged her forward.

She gave him a look.

"What?" he asked.

She sadly moved her hand to her throat.

"It's okay. You can figure each other out. You always do."

Zoey gave him a small, hopeful smile and stood up. She walked over to the Mexican kids hesitantly. She waved at them, and they waved back. It was two little girls, one about nine and one closer to five, and a little boy who was probably three years old in bright green swim trunks, like an M&M. Zoey knew what to say to them – it was in her head, but the words got stuck in her throat.

She swallowed and motioned the oldest girl over to her. Maybe a whisper could work. "¿Pue…" Zoey cleared her throat and swallowed again. "¿Puedo apoyarse?" she asked. Can I help? Only the soft hiss of her breath would come out, but it was enough. They were the first words to cross her lips since she'd drunkenly confessed her thoughts to Lisa nearly three weeks prior.

The girl smiled and handed her a shovel. Within a few minutes, Zoey had written her name written in the sand, and the other kids had followed suit and written theirs as well. Mía was the oldest, and her little brother and sister were Nicolás and Sofía.

"¡Mira!" Mía called. Nate looked up as Nicolás and Sofía went running to the edge of the water where Zoey and Mía were kneeling. Zoey had filled a bucket with water and was starting a new sandcastle closer to the ocean. Zoey caught Nate's eye and grinned up at him. It was the first time she'd smiled with teeth in several days.

Three pairs of small hands joined Zoey's larger ones, and together they crafted a solid base. The three kids were conversing rapidly in bursts of Spanish, excitedly watching as Zoey crafted a tower with a turret. It was a little messy by Zoey's usual standards, but she was out of practice. The kids mimicked her motions, and soon there were several towers on the base they'd made. Mía was helping Nicolás, but Sofía was holding her own.

Nate sent Jay a video of the work in progress, and within 30 seconds, Nate's phone was ringing. He slid his headphones off and answered the call.

"Hey," Nate greeted.

"Hi. Oh my god. How long has she been out of the house?"

Nate pulled the phone away from his ear to check the time. "A little over an hour."

"Yeah?" Jay asked, his happiness evident in his voice.

"Yeah. We walked down by the pier to get ice cream, and then we came down to the beach. She was staring at the kids, so I told her to go play with them."

"They're cute."

"Yeah, they are. They're loud, too – I can actually hear them from here. From what I can understand, they're really excited about Zee hanging out with them."

"She does make a mean sandcastle."

"Yeah. It looks good."

There were a few beats of silence.

"So," Jay started. "Is she… does she seem… is she talking?"

"No, I don't think so. She wrote her name in the sand for them and she's been showing them things with her hands."

A shriek had Nate looking up again – Zoey and the Mexican children were in the water now, past Zoey's knees. They were laughing and splashing. Zoey was carrying the little boy and spinning him around.

Nate pressed a button on his phone to switch to FaceTime. "Here, look."

Both brothers were quiet watching their little sister.

"She looks happy," Jay finally said.

"I think she is."

"Keep taking care of her for me, okay? And if anything happens –"

"Call you, I know."

"Okay. Love you."

"You, too. Bye."

"Bye, man."

When Nate hung up, Zoey motioned him into the water. He shook his head, but she didn't relent. He went at her insistence, taking care to wrap his headphones and his phone in his t-shirt before he stacked his sandals on top. He splashed into the water and flinched a little – it was colder than he was expecting, but when wasn't it?

The younger girl grabbed at Zoey's leg when she realized Nate was coming towards them, but her older sister didn't seem fazed by Nate's muscles or his tattoos. "Hola," she greeted.

"Hola," Nate replied, almost shyly. This was Zoey's element, not his. "Mi hermana," Nate explained, motioning to her. My sister. Then he pointed at his chest. "Me llamo Nate."

"Me llamo Mía," the oldest girl replied. "Este es mi hermano, Nicolás, y mi hermana, Sofía." She pointed as she spoke.

"Hola," Nate greeted the other two.

"¿Quieres jugar?" Nicolás asked.

Nate remembered that phrase from the neighborhood when he was a kid. Wanna play? "Sí," he answered. He crouched down in the water, implying that he was going to chase them. "Listo?" Ready?

The little boy squealed and clung to Zoey as Nate lunged after the little girls. They laughed and laughed as Nate pretended not to be able to catch them.

"Vamanos!" Nicolás cried to Zoey, and she started running after her brother.

Soon, the children's parents came over. "Niños! Cena!" Dinner!

"Mamá, no!" Mía cried.

"Sí. Vamos," the father said.

"Dígale adios a los hermoso Americanos."

Zoey blushed. The beautiful Americans, he'd called them.

All three kids hugged her, leaving wet lines across the bottom of her t-shirt. "Adios, Zoey!"

She waved.

"Adios, Nate," Mía said shyly.

Nate chuckled, familiar with the look. It reminded him of the freshman girls in high school when he was a senior. "Bye."

"Bye," she echoed.

Zoey watched them leave, running up to their parents and then darting around them playfully as the adults trudged up the beach. Zoey missed being that little and being excited about everything. She missed the innocence Walker had stolen from her.

"You ready to go home?" Nate asked, still knee-deep in the ocean. "Go see Jay?"

Zoey looked at him a minute – he wasn't asking because he was ready to leave. He was really just asking. She folded her arms across her stomach and looked at the water. She shook her head no.

In lieu of words, Nate reached down and splashed her legs. She kicked water back at him. They stayed in the ocean, swimming and watching the silver fish for twenty more minutes before they walked over to Jay's.


	13. Chapter 13

Nate noticed that Zoey started acting strangely as they approached the house. When they got to the fence, she stopped walking and wrapped her hand around Nate's elbow. Her book banged lightly into his side.

He looked down at her. "You okay?"

She nodded twice, quick and to the point.

"Okay." Nate escorted her up the walkway and through the front door. "Jay!" he called. "I'm home!"

"Bedroom!"

"I brought you a surprise," Nate called, nudging Zoey forward through the kitchen while he set his headphones and t-shirt down on the counter. She was glad to avoid the spot where The Incident had happened.

"It had better be food!" came Jay's muffled reply.

"It's not food," Nate chuckled.

"Well, fuck." Jay opened his bedroom door, and his eyes fell on Zoey. "Hey, stranger," he grinned.

A rush of warmth filled her at the sight of her brother, and she stepped forward to embrace him. Her arms wrapped around his middle, and she leaned her head against his chest.

Jay hugged her back tightly and looked up at Nate, who was smiling softly at the exchange.

"Hi," Jay whispered to Zoey, kissing her hair. "Hi. Oh, I'm so glad you're home."

She pressed closer to him.

"You smell like the ocean," he observed.

"Hey, why'd you do that to your door?" Nate asked. There was a vertical series of six locks that ran down the outside of Jay's bedroom door. It wasn't there to keep people out - it was there to secure something or someone inside.

"Because," Jay replied shortly with an exaggerated smile. He gave Zoey a squeeze and then let go of her. "Hey, I left your room the same. I didn't let anybody fuck in there or anything, so you're good. There might also be a, uh. A new book in there if you wanna go check it out."

Zoey smiled excitedly and nodded her thanks. She disappeared into her room as Jay said to Nate, "Come on. I need your help outside."

As soon as she shut the door and turned around, she froze. Lying across her bed was the zip hoodie from the night with Walker. Jay must have put it there when he found it on the floor. Every instinct Zoey had was screaming at her to get away from it, to run, but instead, she took a shaky breath and stepped forward. She waited until she heard the front door bang shut behind her big brothers before she picked up the sweatshirt and held it to her chest. She sniffed it – it didn't smell like anything. That much was good. She'd been expecting some sort of sweaty smell, or maybe even a faint odor of semen, but there was nothing. She hadn't been wearing it during the assault, after all. She took it to her closet and stuffed it under her pile of winter things, as far back as she could.

Once that was taken care of, Zoey returned to her nightstand where there was a slightly tattered, secondhand copy of Paper Towns. Zoey had read The Fault in Our Stars – the movie had just come out a few weeks ago – and Looking for Alaska, and she'd been itching to get her hands on a copy of another John Green novel. That would definitely take her mind off things for a while. There was a little price sticker on the front, which Zoey recognized from Goodwill. 99c. She carefully peeled it off, and then she flopped on her comforter, laid down on her stomach, and opened to the first page.

Outside, Nate was incredulously watching Jay start to drill bars onto his windows.

"So Zoey's letting people touch her now?" Jay inquired.

"Yeah, I guess," Nate replied. "She has been for like… This is the second day now."

"It's good to see her. She looks better. Still too skinny, but better. She's got actual fucking color in her face."

"Yeah," Nate agreed distractedly. At the moment, he was less interested in Zoey and more interested in his brother's sudden appreciation for home security. "Jay, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Putting up bars."

"Yeah, but why?"

"People are nihilists, Nate," Jay vented, tossing Nate a silver tool. "They rape and kill and steal just cause they want to. And sometimes even cause they're bored. It's fucking scary when you think about it. Our house? It's wide open."

Nate snorted softly. Jay was ridiculous. "What are you on?" Nate asked.

"There aren't nearly enough cops in Los Angeles," Jay continued, ignoring him, "so it's on us to protect ourselves."

"Okay… well then, why are we only putting bars on your window?"

Jay pulled his sunglasses off to look at his brother. "Cause it's a pain in the ass to fucking install," he sassed. "Come on, we got more work to do."

* * *

"Hi, Mr. Kulina? This is Dr. Flowers from the Venice Family Clinic."

"Hi, how are you?" Alvey asked. He was standing in the kitchen when his phone started buzzing. He recognized the number on the screen from dialing it so many times over the past week.

"I'm doing well. I hear you've been playing phone tag with our receptionists!"

Alvey chuckled. "Yeah, it's been a few days. You're a busy establishment."

The doctor laughed. "Yes, we sure are." She cleared her throat, and her tone changed. "What we've been trying to talk to you about is actually pretty serious. I was actually going to have to send someone over to your residence if I wasn't able to get you on the phone today."

"Oh?" Alvey asked curiously, feeling a twinge of nervousness.

"Yes, sir. You see, when your daughter Zoey was in the other day, she implied to me that she had been abused." At Alvey's surprised silence, she continued. "I'm sure you're aware that your daughter hasn't been speaking. This is a coping mechanism we sometimes see in young trauma survivors, and the fact that your daughter was exhibiting that and, as your son reported, not consenting to casual touches, well, that sent up a red flag with me. I asked her about it, and she didn't deny having been molested."

"Molested?" Alvey echoed incredulously.

"Yes, and it may be even more serious than that. She didn't disclose anything, but she made it clear to me that it was done by someone outside of the family, which is why I'm contacting you directly."

"Wait, wait. You're saying somebody touched my kid?!"

"It's entirely possible. She was extremely reluctant to talk about it – she actually stormed out of my office."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Alvey muttered. He squeezed his eyes shut and brought a hand to his forehead. "Okay, well. Well, what do I need to do?" he asked.

"We have to treat these cases very quickly and very sensitively. I have already contacted Child Protective Services and LA Public Social Services."

"Fuck," Alvey breathed. "Okay."

"They'll probably send someone down in the next few days to talk to your daughter. They just want to hear what happened and make sure she's safe. I understand she might not be able to physically talk, and she may not want to communicate otherwise either, but we really need to make sure she's not in any danger."

"Danger?"

"Yes, sir. Sometimes victims are in danger of being abused again, or they're a danger to themselves. Not all trauma survivors come out the other side unscathed."

"I see," Alvey murmured. He headed to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. "So the suddenly not talking thing could be from… stress?"

"Post-traumatic stress, yes. It's called selective mutism."

"Does it go away?"

"In time, usually. As stress is reduced, she will begin to heal, and her voice should return. Her brother mentioned that your family was speculating that she might have had mononucleosis, but it sounds like she was never truly sick to begin with. After she and your son left, I spoke to my supervisor, and she thinks Zoey might have been experiencing a psychosomatic fever."

"What's that? Isn't that a plant thing?"

The doctor chuckled. "No, it's actually a psychological 'thing.' It means that the brain makes the body feel sick even though there's nothing actually wrong. It's like how some people experience pain in their arms or legs even though there's nothing physically causing it. The fever is brought on psychologically instead of by a virus or an infection."

"Wow. And the constant sleeping?"

"It could be a symptom of her depression, or it could just be another way she's trying to cope. If you're asleep, you don't have to think about the bad things that have happened."

Alvey put down his old fashioned glass and took a gulp straight out of the bottle. "Fuck."

"You'll want to comfort her and let her know that you're there for her. It may be difficult to talk about, but the thing your daughter needs now most of all is support. She may feel alone, and she may even want to hurt herself. This can be very difficult to process for everyone involved. I gave your son my card. If you have any more questions, he has my number. Or you can just call the front office and ask for me, though it seems that was proved unreliable."

"Okay."

"Social services will be in contact with you soon. I hope Zoey starts feeling better. Please let me know if there's anything I can do."

"Thanks, Doc." Alvey hung up and downed another gulp of alcohol.

"What was that?" Lisa asked from the doorway. Alvey wasn't sure when she'd gotten there. "Answers about Zee?"

Alvey scoffed softly. "Yeah."

Lisa followed him into the bedroom. "Well? What did they say?"

Alvey collapsed onto the edge of the bed, and Lisa sat next to him. He shrugged tiredly. "I'm…" He shook his head.

"What?"

"Give me a minute?"

"Okay." She rubbed the back of his shoulder, growing increasingly concerned as he drank nonstop from the brown bottle. "Alvey."

He swallowed thickly and bowed his head. "They're sending fucking CPS out here."

"What? Why?"

"Apparently the doctor thinks somebody molested her."

"What?! Alvey, oh my god."

"And you know what the fucking worst part is?"

"What?" Lisa asked nervously.

"That girl on the phone just explained every one of that kid's symptoms to me using that fucking trauma stress out disorder thing."

"Post-traumatic stress disorder? So she didn't have mono?"

"No, apparently not."

"Alvey, this is serious. You need to talk to her."

"Jay's gonna fucking commit a murder," Alvey muttered.

"Alvey. You need to get her over here right now to figure this out."

"No, no… Nate was taking her to Jay's tonight for dinner. I think he was really looking forward to having the three of them together again, and I can't step on that. I'll call tomorrow and check in, and if they're –"

"You've got to be kidding me!" Lisa exploded.

"What? What?"

"Your child, your baby girl just possibly got molested and you're just going to fucking sit here and drink your scotch and lift some weights? Make dinner and talk to me about the guys at the gym?"

"Lis –"

"No! No. You didn't listen to me after Nate got hurt, but you're gonna listen to me now. You cannot let these people walk all over your kids! You'd never let them do this to you, but you'll let them do it to your babies? I don't think so." She lowered her voice to a growl. "You fucking know what happened to my sister, Alvey. You fucking know it."

"Lisa, please. This isn't like that. I wanna fucking kill the guys that beat up Nate –"

"You asshole! This is exactly fucking like that! And you're being exactly like my dad! I will NOT let this happen again. I will NOT let you do this to Nate and Zee. If you won't help your kids, I will. I'll save them myself."

* * *

After a cheap make-your-own pizza dinner, Jay leaned back, sighed heavily, and rubbed his belly.

"Hey, Zee, can you do the dishes for me?"

She nodded and quickly went to the counter.

Jay raised his eyebrows – he'd been expecting at least a groan of some sort, but his sister was silent as she turned on the tap and reached into the cupboard for the dish soap. Nate tacitly volunteered himself to dry by stationing himself next to his sister.

Jay shook his head. With Nate's quiet personality and Zoey mute now, the house was going to be nearly silent. It was like he was living with two of the avox from the fucking Hunger Games. Jay's phone started to vibrate on the table. "Interesting," he mused at the ID before sliding his thumb across the screen to answer the call. "Yello?"

"Hey, I need to talk to you," Alvey declared shortly into his ear.

"What's up?" He burped loudly. "'Scuse me."

"Are you alone?" Alvey inquired, ignoring him.

"Whoa, you gettin' kinky on me, Pops? Huh? What are you wearing?"

Nate snorted and swatted the dishtowel in Jay's direction. Jay waved an arm at him dismissively.

"Jay. I'm serious. Get somewhere private. I'm not talkin' to you until you do."

"Alright, alright," Jay grumbled. He held the phone to his chest as he spoke to the twins. "I'll be right back. Be good, monkeys." He stepped outside and brought the phone back up to his ear. "Okay, they can't hear me."

"Okay." Alvey sighed. "Look, I know you just got your sister back, but I need you to bring her over to my place tonight."

"What? Hell no."

"I need to talk to her, and I can't do it on the phone cause she can't fucking talk."

"I'll have Nate set up a Skype thing," Jay offered.

"Jay."

"Alvey," Jay mocked.

"Jay, it's not funny. Something happened, okay? And I need to talk to her. It's important."

That caught Jay's attention. "What do you mean, something happened? Is it Lisa?"

"What? No, nothing's wrong with Lisa. I need to talk to Zoey."

"Yeah, Pops, I got that. Why?"

"It's…"

"She's my fucking kid," Jay argued.

"Yes, Jay, I heard you. I heard you the first eight hundred times you said that. I heard you when you said it about your brother, too. But this is… I don't know how to explain it, and you know what, I'm not going to. I need you to bring your sister over tonight, and that's that. You're fucking doing it."

"No, I'm fucking not. You can't have her."

"Yes, Jay, you – "

There was some shuffling, and then Lisa was speaking into the phone.

"Hey, Jay."

"What the fuck's he talking about? Why does he want to talk to her?"

"The doctor that you guys saw over at the clinic called today. She talked to your dad about something Zoey mentioned at the appointment, and it's important. I know how much she means to you, okay? And I mean that in the sense that I'll never truly understand how much she means to you. And because I know that, I want you to think about what your dad is asking you to do. He wants to talk to her to get the story straight before he takes any action. Instead of diving straight in like he always does, he's actually using his head and trying to get the facts this time. Jay, you know how badly she wants Alvey to be there for her. Let him be. It won't make you any less important to her, I promise. She'll never love anyone as much as she loves you, you know that, but right now, we're all blind, and we're fucking scared. So let us deal with this so for once, you don't have to. You'll know what's going on as soon as we figure it out. Jay, please. Let us take care of your girl."

There was a pause. Lisa held her breath, hoping her pitch had been enough.

"I want her back tonight," Jay finally demanded. "She's coming back over here to sleep. And I'm not dropping her off, I'm staying until she's done."

"Done."

"Okay, I'll see you in a bit." Jay hung up and headed back to the kitchen. "Zee, I gotta take you back to Dad's for a minute."

She cocked her head at him, her expression a mix of curiosity and sadness. Nate unconsciously gave him a puppy face.

"Oh, you two are gonna be the death of me," he groaned. "It's just for a few minutes. He wants to ask you about something, I guess. I don't really know, he wouldn't say anything about it. But I'll bring you home tonight. Lisa promised."

Zoey looked at Nate and then back to Jay. She nodded hesitantly.

"Alright, come on. I'll drive you over. Nate, you wanna come?"

"Nah, I'll stay here."

"Okay. We'll be back soon. Don't throw a rager while I'm gone."

Zoey cracked a smile at that. She squeezed Nate's wrist in parting before following her oldest brother out the door. She climbed into his pickup truck and leaned her head against the cool glass window.

"How you doin', huh?" Jay asked as he started the car. "You okay?"

She nodded at him, maintaining eye contact. Well, that was a huge improvement.

"I missed you a lot," he stated. "And then when Nate left… I know you two needed to hang out more, but boy, I sure ate a lot of boxed mac and cheese." He chuckled to himself. Zoey reached out and playfully patted his knee in mock sympathy, and Jay smiled. "I told Dad you were gonna come home with me after he says whatever it is he wants to say. That's the plan, right?" he asked hesitantly as he merged onto the road.

She nodded happily.

"Okay, good, good. Ay, I'm not tryin' to get rid of you. I'm actually fighting to try to fucking keep you. Dad wanted you to stay over again tonight, but I told him hell no." Jay switched the radio on as he chatted to her.

They reached the big house within a few minutes. Alvey answered the door and let Zoey in. He headed down the driveway to Jay. "Lisa wants to talk to her alone," Alvey explained. "She thinks I'm too pushy."

"I agree," Jay stated.

"You don't even know what it is I want to talk to her about!"

"I don't have to," Jay countered flippantly. He leaned against his truck and lit up a cigarette.

Inside, Lisa sat Zoey down on the couch and then took a seat at the opposite end. "You want something to drink?" Lisa asked.

Zoey shook her head no. She hadn't been nervous in the car, but now that she was here and even Lisa was acting strangely, she had grown uneasy.

"First of all," Lisa began, "I want to say that I love you. I know you've had kind of a tough time adjusting to me and your dad being together, but I do love you and your brothers very much." She cleared her throat. "I also want to say that you're not in trouble, okay? Not at all. Nobody's going to yell at you or get mad at you, no matter what you say tonight. We just want to help you."

Zoey knitted her eyebrows together and shifted awkwardly. Now she was scared.

"I'll get right to it. The doctor from the clinic called your dad today. She told your dad that somebody hurt you. Is that true?" Lisa reached out and took Zoey's hand in hers. She could see the surprise in Zoey's face – this definitely wasn't what the girl had been expecting. "I just want to help you, Zee. But I can't do that unless you let me know how." She blinked calmly. "Did someone touch you?"

Zoey kept her eyes cast down, but she nodded. She'd been aching for someone to know, and the way Lisa was talking all soft... it was impossible to lie anymore.

"Okay," Lisa whispered. She squeezed Zoey's hand. "I love you," Lisa repeated, and Zoey did her best to smile. "Are you okay?"

Zoey shrugged and kicked her feet.

"Sweetheart, did you know the person?" Lisa asked softly.

Zoey nodded again.

"But it wasn't your brothers or your dad."

Zoey made eye contact with Lisa and shook her head firmly. Jay and Nate would never hurt me, she wanted to say.

"Was it a boy from school?"

Zoey shook her head. She motioned for pen and paper, and Lisa quickly got up and grabbed the items out of the cabinet by the phone. "Here."

I can't say who, she scrawled.

Lisa had almost been expecting a name. "Why not?" she asked, careful to keep her tone calm and even.

Zoey hesitated. She wasn't about to tell Lisa that there was a threat out against Nate's life if Zoey spilled the beans. Lisa would definitely get the police involved. Zoey brushed her hair out of her eyes and wrote, I just can't.

"That's okay, honey," Lisa murmured. She was being too nice, but Zoey didn't care. Right now, she needed someone to be too nice. "Can you tell me when it happened?"

I don't want to say anything else, Zoey wrote. I want to go home with Jay now.

"Okay," Lisa whispered. She stood up, and Zoey followed suit. Lisa took Zoey's hand as she walked the younger girl to the front door. When she opened it, Alvey and Jay both looked up.

"Well, that was fast!" Alvey noted happily.

Jay watched as Lisa gave Alvey a short, dark nod, and Alvey's face fell considerably.

"What?" Alvey muttered to Lisa in disbelief. Then to Zoey, "Baby, come here. Come here." He met her halfway up the driveway and wrapped her in a hug, which she accepted. He held his daughter for the first time since Nate's fight nearly four weeks prior. This time wasn't in glee and pride, though, it was in shock and sorrow. Alvey never wanted to let her go. How could he have failed her so badly? How could he have let someone hurt her this way? He pressed his daughter's head to his chest.

"She wants to go home with Jay," Lisa reminded Alvey.

"Yeah, okay," Alvey mumbled. He kissed the top of Zoey's head and then tilted her chin up so she could look into his eyes. She couldn't seem to look directly at him, though. "I love you, baby. You know you can talk to me?" When she didn't nod, Alvey felt a pang of sadness. "You call me if you need anything, okay? I'll be here," he promised.

Jay went over to Lisa. "What the fuck's going on?" he asked quietly.

Lisa gave him a sad smile. "She'll share when she's ready."

"What do you guys know that I don't? She's my kid. I need to know."

Lisa just kissed his cheek and nudged him toward his car.

Alvey opened passenger door of Jay's truck and stood guard as Zoey climbed in.

"You keep her safe, you hear me?" Alvey instructed Jay.

"Roger that," Jay muttered, and he climbed into the driver's side. The engine turned over loudly, roaring in the quiet, and the headlights flickered on. Alvey put his arm around Lisa as they watched the siblings disappear down the road.

They were quiet for a moment

"She didn't tell me much, but she said a lot more than I expected," Lisa finally said, still staring at the road.

"Did she talk?" Alvey asked.

"No. I thought she wasn't going to tell me anything, and that she was going to freak out when I asked her. But she stayed calm. She confirmed that it happened, and she said it was somebody she knew outside of the family."

"She fucking knew the guy?" Alvey asked angrily, instantly getting revved up.

"Hey," Lisa soothed, placing her hand flat against Alvey's chest. When he seemed calmer, she continued. "It's great that she said anything at all. People can't just spill the whole story in one try. She needs time. She'll tell us more when she's ready; we just have to be there to listen."

"She trusts you," Alvey commented. "She doesn't trust me at all, but she trusts you."

Lisa thought about this for a moment. "She's starting to."


	14. Chapter 14

When the oldest and youngest Kulina siblings got back to the house, Nate had started making a batch of cookies.

"They're almost ready for the oven," he explained when his brother and sister walked in the door.

Jay grinned and wrapped him in a big bear hug. "Ugh, you're the best."

The problem with Zoey was moved to the back burner. And if it wasn't then, it certainly was when Jay and Nate got into a debate about which movie they should watch.

Zoey leaned back against the kitchen counter. She smelled the comforting aroma of Nate's peanut butter cookies baking in the oven while she listened to her brothers playfully bickering, and she couldn't help but smile.

Nate glanced at her and nodded. He hadn't meant for it to happen, but suddenly they got locked into one of their soft stares. Usually, Jay broke it apart and teased them when he noticed it, but tonight he let them read each other. It was like they were watching fireworks or reading the Bible; they were completely absorbed. Nate used to stare at Zoey when she was a new baby, just looking into her eyes. One of those looks could quiet a screaming Zoey in a matter of seconds. For a while, Jay thought Nate was making up the things he'd tell Jay about her – she had a bad dream. She wants you to pick her up. Jay, her belly hurts – but by the time Zoey was 18 months old, he could tell that Nate knew what he was talking about.

Still, Jay was convinced that the stares were more than that – it was almost like they were able to see past other's eyes and into each other's souls. Jay slipped out of the kitchen and went to sit on the couch to wait for them. They wouldn't be more than a minute or two.

Wordlessly, yin and her yang appeared a moment later and sat down in their usual places on opposite ends of the couch. Jay gave Nate a smile.

Halfway through The Winter Soldier, Zoey leaned against Jay. He adjusted his position slightly, physically preparing himself to be still for the next hour. She was asleep against his shoulder in a matter of minutes.

"She's gettin' better, huh?" Jay asked, careful not to speak too loudly.

"I think so," Nate replied, keeping his eyes focused on the TV. "Part of me thinks something's still really fucked up, though."

"She doesn't have a fever anymore. And she doesn't seem so scared of us."

Nate nodded.

Jay looked over at his little brother. "But yeah, I think you're right. You know her inside and out, man. What the fuck's going on?" When Nate shrugged, Jay looked at the carpet. "Look. Alvey and Lisa know something. They're not telling me what yet, but they fucking know something."

That caught Nate's attention. He looked at Jay.

"When I took her over there earlier, Lisa took her inside and talked to her. Dad came out of the house and smoked with me in the fucking driveway."

"I thought he quit," Nate muttered.

"Yeah, who knows. And then Lisa came back out with Zoey after like, two fucking minutes, and Dad flipped his shit. But not like normal. He wasn't mad. He was, like… emotional. He got all quiet. Gave Zee a hug and everything."

Nate wrinkled his nose. "Why?"

"I dunno. Lis was real weird about it, too. She was all fucking cryptic, like, she'll tell you when she's ready, or whatever," Jay imitated, wiggling the fingers on his free arm for emphasis. "It kinda freaked me out." He sighed. "But thanks for the cookies, man. I needed that."

Nate shrugged. "I was hungry," he admitted.

Jay scoffed and whacked Nate gently across the back of the head, careful to avoid his healing scar. "You motherfucker," he chuckled. "I thought they were for us. I thought you made them cause you fucking missed us!"

"I just wanted some goddamn cookies, geez," Nate mumbled, trying to keep a grin from spreading across his face.

Jay punched him in the arm.

At the movement, Zoey shifted on Jay's shoulder. Both boys looked down at her and then back up at the TV. She loved this movie; Jay couldn't believe she fell asleep during it.

Ironically, Zoey had been the tiebreaker on the movie debate – Jay had wanted to watch Animal House again, and Nate wanted The Winter Soldier. Zoey had always been the most into superheroes out of the three of them, so of course she went with the Marvel movie. That meant a classic American hero, a wholesome and beautiful girl, some explosions, and not nearly enough swearing, but Jay didn't mind. He liked making his kids happy. It was like giving them the last piece of cake (but not quite as painful). Plus, it was fun to tease Zoey about liking Bucky.

When the end credits were rolling, Jay was glad the kids had outvoted him. He had genuinely enjoyed the movie, and it was fun to pretend he was Falcon. Nate would be Cap and Zoey would be the Black Widow, and the three of them would fight crime together. It was almost laughable at some parts how similar the Kulinas were to the three characters onscreen. And then there was the whole thing about the guy who looked and acted freakishly like Dad.

Nate flipped the overhead light on, and Zoey blinked awake at the brightness. She yawned and stretched and then sat up. She took a breath as if she was going to speak, but nothing came out. Her face fell.

"Hey, it's okay," Jay encouraged. "Your voice'll come back soon. I know it."

She nodded, but she still looked dejected. She got up and helped Nate start clearing the plates and cups from the cookies off the coffee table. When the kids had both left the room, Jay dropped his head into his hands.

A little while later, Zoey had showered and come out of her room to say goodnight to Jay. When he looked up, he grinned. "Hey, I was thinking – you wanna sneak into the movie theatre tomorrow? They're still playing The Fault in Our Stars. I remember you talked about wanting to go, but you were sick when it came out – do you still wanna see it?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

"Alright. Tomorrow afternoon, yeah? Let's do it. You goin' to bed?"

She nodded again.

"Alright, here. Gimme a hug."

She quickly obeyed. When she let go, she pressed her hands together and opened them like a book. She had a hopeful expression on her face.

"You want Cinderella?" he asked, a little surprised.

She nodded, a small smile passing across her face at how easily he understood her.

"Yes, ma'am, okay! Alright, let's see." Jay followed her into her room and flopped down onto her bed. "You think I can still remember it word for word?" he asked.

Zoey nodded and settled under the covers.

"I know you can, but I'm getting to be an old man," Jay teased. "Okay, um. Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Ella. She was rich and she lived in a fucking mansion in Paris with her mom and dad. They had – Hey! Just cause you're older doesn't mean you get to break the rule," he insisted.

Zoey sighed at getting caught. Jay's condition for telling bedtime stories was that all the listeners had to close their eyes while he spoke (otherwise, he'd be talking for hours). She shut her eyes and waited for Jay to continue.

"See! I do remember some things!" he joked. He squeezed her ankle through the quilt. "Okay. Where was I? Oh, yeah. She lived in a fucking giant mansion in Paris with her mom and dad. And they had horses and fucking chickens and a shit ton of friendly servants, and they were all real happy. But then one day, Ella's mom got really sick, and the doctor told them she wasn't going to get better."

Zoey reached down for Jay's hand. It had probably been nine years since he'd told her the story, but she still grabbed his hand at exactly the same part. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand as he continued.

"Before she died, she told Ella something that she'd always remember – you have to always have courage and be kind. Ella and her father and their servants and all the animals were really sad when Ella's mom passed away. But a lot of years went by, and they got less sad. And Ella grew up into a teenager."

Jay smiled to himself – Zoey had always been so little when Jay recited the story for her that he could never really picture her being a teenager. And now here she was, more than halfway done being a teenager. Oh geez. He wondered if Zoey would ever meet a handsome prince of her own. He gave her hand a squeeze; he wanted her to stay little forever. He wished he could turn back time.

"Her dad went off on a special business trip, and when he came back, he told Ella that he needed to have a talk with her. He was like, 'Something fucking awesome happened. I met this foxy lady on my trip. Is it cool with you if I marry her?' Ella thought about what her mom said about having courage and being kind, and she decided to use her courage to tell her father hell yeah, he could marry her. She wanted him to be happy, even if she didn't think she was ready to have a new mom yet."

Zoey was still under the covers, and her breathing was beginning to slow. Jay softened his voice and continued.

"So in like, two weeks, Ella's dad brought the hot lady to live with them. What he didn't tell Ella ahead of time was that the lady had two daughters. They had fucking horrible names – are you ready? The one that always dressed in pink was Anastasia. And the one who always dressed in green was Drisella. I mean, who names a baby Drisella? But anyway, Ella's new stepsisters were mean and awful, and they had weird noses. They were mean to Ella, but she tried to make the best of it anyway. She wanted her dad to be happy, remember? And she remembered what her mom said about being kind."

Jay could tell Zoey was asleep, so he quietly sat up. "And then Ella danced with the handsome prince all night, and the glass slipper fit her foot, and they got married and lived happily ever after," he whispered. He carefully let go of her hand. He crossed the room but stopped in the doorway.

"Goodnight, princess," he whispered. He didn't say it the way he normally did when he was mocking Zoey with Alvey's stupid nickname. He meant it in a sweet way. Zoey was the same age as Cinderella now, maybe even older. And it's not like there weren't some pretty badass princess out there – Merida and Tiana and Jasmine were all pretty cool. Maybe Black Widow was some kind of Russian royalty. Natasha Romanoff would be one hell of a princess. He could only imagine the things she'd do as queen.

Alvey had always called Nate his prince, but Zoey was Jay's little princess. She was the best kind of little sister – loving and sweet, but also willing to call him out and kick his ass. The way she was acting now was the opposite of everything she ever was. And the way Alvey had flipped out earlier – something was really wrong. Jay wasn't going to rest until he figured out what.

* * *

After lunch the next day, Jay took Zoey to the movie theatre like he'd promised the night before. He wrapped up a few of the leftover peanut butter cookies and slipped them into his pocket. If the movie was as sad as Jay kept hearing, they'd definitely need the sugar to cheer them up.

While his siblings were gone, Nate had the house to himself. He jerked off to some porn and then made mac and cheese from a box while he waited for Family Guy to come on at 3 o'clock.

Around 3:15, there was a sharp knock at the door. Nate hobbled across the room to see who had come by, but he caught a glimpse of the person behind the windowpanes and froze. He slipped partially behind a doorway, out of view. Nate was so glad that Zee and Jay weren't there to see him hiding like a bitch.

"Nate?" Detective Gaines called. "You in there?" He knocked a few more times.

Nate glared at the door and willed the man to leave. What the fuck was he doing at the house? Yeah, maybe Nate had ignored a few messages on his phone, but seriously – house calls? He didn't know they did that anymore.

After another minute or so, the detective shook his head and walked back down to his car.

Nate let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and went back to the couch. He spent the next five minutes trying to focus on his Family Guy episode, but he gave up and dialed Mac's number.

* * *

Jay and Zoey came home about an hour later with red eyes.

"What the fuck happened to you two?" Nate asked, smirking slightly.

"That goddamn movie," Jay answered. He angrily swiped at his nose. "That was horrible."

Zoey gave Nate a small smile.

"At least you knew what was coming!" Jay pointed out. "I went into that shit show blind! It was torture!"

Zoey rolled her eyes.

"What happened?" Nate asked.

"Fuckin' cancer kids. They were in love, and then one of 'em dropped fucking dead."

"Ouch," Nate mused.

"Yeah, no shit."

"Did you like it?" Nate asked his sister.

She nodded enthusiastically and placed a hand over her heart.

"Well, good," Jay snapped dramatically. "I'm glad someone had a nice time."

"Oh, shut up," said Nate. Zoey smiled at him.

"I got some work to do," Jay stated. He mussed up Zoey's hair, punched Nate on the arm, and went to get into his truck. Nate followed him.

"Where are you going?" Nate asked him.

"Out! Out and about," Jay replied in sudden mock cheer, avoiding the question. "But I'm gonna need you and Zee to stay away from the house tonight, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because I need you to." He shut the car door behind himself.

"Jay? What the fuck's going on with you, man?" Nate asked, trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice.

"I'm gonna tell you everything tonight, okay?" Jay promised, smacking a gentle hand onto the side of Nate's neck and pulling their foreheads together. "Go have fun. Do somethin' fun. Go see a show or meet a girl or whatever it is you do." He slid his sunglasses on. "I take care of you, right?" he asked with a dazzling smile.

"Yeah," Nate agreed grudgingly. He shook his head as Jay drove away. He tucked his hands into his pockets and walked back inside. Zoey was sitting on the couch, messing with the remote.

"Hey, you wanna go out tonight?"

Zoey shrugged without looking at him.

"Not, like, clubbing or anything. I just thought…" He sighed and sat down next to her. "I think we could both use a smoke."

She stilled her hands but kept her eyes on the TV.

"Jay wants us out of the house tonight, and he said to do something fun, so… you game?"

Zoey thought for a minute. She really could use some weed. Any kind of weed would be great at this point. She'd tried a hit once, and although she hadn't gotten high, she'd liked the way it made her feel. And smoking with Nate meant that she'd be safe. She needed to relax, though, for real – her back was aching all the time from tension, and she was sure Nate could use the pain relief with his knee. Zoey wanted to say yes. She wasn't like the girl in Cinderella – she didn't owe anybody anything. She didn't have to say no just to keep Jay happy. Maybe she should, but she was in fucking pain, too. She wanted to forget. Maybe it would be like the drinking – maybe it would make her forget, too.

Okay. She nodded. She was going to do this for herself. After what she'd been through, and after her conversation with Lisa, she deserved to feel good for a while.

"Cool. We'll go see Mac after dinner, alright?"

* * *

That night, Nate and Zoey took a bus a few streets over to Mac's apartment. It was big and spacious, and it was significantly cleaner than Zoey had imagined for a guy living alone.

"Hey, man. What's your poison tonight?" Mac inquired. "I got Ritalin, Oxy, Xanax, Adderall, Demerol… I've even got angel dust right now."

Nate jerked his thumb in Zoey's direction. "We just need some weed for this one."

"You ever smoke before?" Mac asked her.

"She can't talk," Nate reminded flatly.

"Oh, riiiight," Mac nodded. "She okay? Is it PTSD shit?" he asked knowingly, slightly lowering his voice as if Zoey couldn't hear him from four feet away. "Alvey wouldn't tell me anything even though I told him I could probably help."

Zoey's eyes widened, but Nate cocked his head. "PDS-what?"

Behind Nate, Zoey shook her head desperately at Mac.

"Oh, uh. Uh, nothing, man, it's nothing. It's – you wanted weed, you said?"

Zoey silently let out the breath she was holding.

"Yeah. You got sativa?"

"You bet your ass I do. How much you want?"

"How much you charging?"

"Same as usual."

"Alright, I got fifteen. That'll get me a gram?"

"Yep. Friends and family discount."

"Okay."

Zoey watched the money change hands, and she peered closely as Mac passed Nate a baggie.

"This isn't spice, right?" Nate confirmed.

Mac shook his head. "Hell no, man. I don't sell that shit. Don't wanna be seeing you guys in the fucking ER."

Nate nodded, and the two shook hands.

"Zee, if anything weird happens, you call me, okay? Not 911. Me. Nod if you understand."

"Mac," Nate warned. He took his sister by the arm and led her out the door.

By the time they got to the bus stop, a light breeze was blowing, and the sun was starting to set.

"My first time, Jay took me to the beach to smoke, and then we went to the promenade and watched the magicians. You wanna do that?"

Zoey nodded.

"Alright, cool. I've got some rolling papers at the house. Let me stop by and grab them."

Zoey tugged on his sleeve. Jay said no, she wanted to say.

"It's fine, I'll just be a second," Nate reassured her. "You're gonna need a sweatshirt anyway."

Zoey looked away as she thought about the hoodie she'd buried in her closet.

"Hey," Nate said, nudging her. "You'll feel better soon."

* * *

There was no sign of Jay at the house, so the youngest Kulinas went in. Nate was rustling around in his own bedroom, grabbing his papers out of his sock drawer. Zoey wanted one of Jay's big hoodies, but she took a moment to run her fingers over all the locks on the doors before she entered his room.

"It looks like a prison, right?" Nate asked. He shook his head. "He said he'd spill tonight. He better have a good explanation. I just wanna know if he knows he's bolting himself in."

Zoey nodded absently. She went in and drew back his closet doors. She took a moment to assess her options before pulling a black, oversized Navy Street hoodie off a hanger and shrugging into it. It nearly swallowed her cutoffs.

"Alright, you ready?" Nate asked when she exited Jay's room.

She tried again to speak, but her voice failed her yet again. She opted for a nod.

"Okay, come on. You wanna take the bus or walk?"

She looked pointedly at his leg. You decide.

"We'd better take the bus," he sighed. "I fucking hate this."

Zoey shot him a sympathetic smile.

The beach was practically empty when they got there, and the ocean had nearly swallowed the sun. Zoey followed Nate back to their usual spot on the dunes. Her brother set up some quiet music on his phone and then pulled out the baggie and started rolling.

Zoey watched intently as his fingers, which she was used to seeing as a swollen, taped-up mess of bloody knuckles, moved nimbly and with care.

Once they were both rolled, he asked, "Do you wanna just go for it, or do you wanna watch first?"

She motioned for him to show her what to do.

"Alright. So you light it – I'm sure that much you can figure out. You," he demonstrated, taking a drag, "hold it in your lungs. Let it stay there a minute. And then you just…" He exhaled slowly, a cloud of grayish smoke concealing his face for a moment.

Zoey immediately recognized the smell – it was that sweet, earthy aroma that had followed Jay around for as long as she could remember.

Nate held out the rolled up pot, and Zoey looked at it for a moment before she took it. She held it in her hand, liking the way it looked there, and then brought it to her lips and carefully inhaled.

It doesn't taste like it smells, she wanted to tell him.

"Slow," Nate reminded.

It burned in her lungs somehow, and she coughed.

He gave her a tiny smile. "That happens to everybody," he reassured as he lit up.

Zoey was determined, though. Coincidentally, they breathed in at the same time, and the second around, Zoey experienced less of a burn. She held the smoke in her lungs as long as Nate did, but that time, Nate blew his up toward the sky.

They were quiet as they smoked. Zoey watched the ocean for a moment as she waited for something to happen. She was sure she'd never been this aware of her breath, but slowly, she could tell that things were changing. Her brain felt slower, but her body felt… different. It was like she needed to move.

Beside her, Nate was calm and quiet. The only sign of any change in him was his wriggling fingers.

Then, all of a sudden, she giggled.

Nate raised his eyebrows. "Whoa."

She tilted her head at him.

"Your voice just worked," he told her.

She brought her hand up to her throat and smiled in surprise.

"Say something," he suggested.

"Something," she sassed. Then she gasped. "Oh my god, Nate!"

He grinned and bumped her shoulder. "Told you you'd feel better."

"Nate!" she exclaimed again. His teeth looked white as fuck when he smiled, and she laughed again. "I like this."

"Me too. God, you can fucking talk. I can't believe weed fixed your voice."

She wiggled her toes in the sand. "I can," she admitted. "The fucking doctor at the clinic said I can't talk cause I'm stressed."

"Why?"

Zoey shrugged. "Ask me in a couple minutes."

Nate held his phone up, and Zoey pulled her mouth into a close-lipped smile as he snapped a flash photo. The bright light was dazzling in the dark. "Look at your eyes," he directed as he held up the picture for her to see. They were like big, black saucers ringed by a thin line of brown iris.

"Whoa."

Nate was silent for a moment, but Zoey could practically feel him thinking.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing, just… I really missed your voice, Zebra."

"Shut up."

The two shared a soft smile, and Zoey nudged him with her shoulder.

A moment after Nate finished his pot, he announced, "I can't sit here anymore; I'm getting jittery. Wanna go see if we can find some magic?"

"Yeah."

Zoey continued smoking as she walked, getting comfortable with the feeling of the smoke dancing around in her lungs. The burn was gone, and she was starting to feel like she was floating. The promenade had never looked so beautiful. She told Nate as much.

"Yeah," he agreed. "The lights are so… shiny."

"Look at all these people. They look so happy. God, I fucking love this place."

"I thought you wanted to run away."

Zoey thought for a moment. "I do. But right now, I love it anyway."

"Fair enough."

She looped her arm around his and held onto his elbow like she had the day before when they returned home. The two best friends walked through the street, laughing and chatting.

"Zebra, look," Nate murmured. He was pointing to a man on stilts about thirty feet away.

"How tall do you think he is?" Zoey asked, standing on her tiptoes.

"Sixteen feet?" Nate guessed, his forehead creased in thought.

Zoey was sent into peals of laughter. "More like ten," she countered.

"Maybe."

"You're an idiot," she laughed.

Nate slung his arm around her shoulders and kissed her hair as they walked. He kept pointing things out – little kids with dripping ice cream cones, cringe-worthy couples making out, and hole-in-the-wall t-shirt shops that he was just noticing even though they'd been there their entire lives. Zoey fucking loved him like this – it was like after he'd won a fight. He was loosened up and fun.

"I love you," she declared simply after they'd sat down. There was an illusionist a few feet in front of them, and several people were gathering to watch.

Nate took a seat behind her for the sake of taking up less space in the crowd. "You, too," he replied, draping his arms around her shoulders and boxing her in.

Zoey oohed and ahhed through card tricks and disappearing coins. She never could figure out how any sort of magic worked, and now that she was watching it while high, she could have sworn that this man in front of her had powers.

Everything was so dreamy, and Nate was right – the lights really were bright. They seemed to swim in the sky every time Zoey looked at them. She was aware that the air was getting chilly, but it was like her body was immune to feeling it. She couldn't stop staring at the shops, at the people, at the perfectly starry sky. Even the birds seemed majestic as they scuttled down the sidewalk.

After the magic show was over, the crowd cleared, but Nate and his sister stayed put in the dark. Zoey fidgeted with the strings of Jay's sweatshirt. "I'm hungry," she muttered.

"You ever gonna tell me what's up?" Nate asked, ignoring her declaration. He knew she'd eat both Jay and Dad out of house and home right then with her munchies, and he didn't have any cash on him. "I'm right, aren't I? You weren't sick?"

"Yeah, But you won't like it." She turned and looked up at him when he didn't speak. "It's bad, Nate. Really fucking bad."

He blinked, waiting for her to continue.

"It's not your fault," she murmured. "For a little bit, I thought it was, but I realized during the storm that it's not." She paused. "You know, I should feel bad right now, thinking about this, but I don't."

"That's the point," Nate commented.

"I love this. Is there a hangover?"

"No, you'll just get really sleepy."

"Sweet. When I drank all that stuff at Dad's, I think I was hung over for two days."

"That would be the Valium," Nate supplied. "So what happened?"

"I'm not supposed to tell," Zoey replied.

"What does that mean?"

Zoey quietly laughed. "Well, I mean, he said he'll kill you if I tell anybody."

Nate sat up straight, eyes dark. "Zee, what the fuck? Are you serious?"

"Um... yeah, I am. He said if I say anything to anybody about what happened that he'll kill you and make me watch."

"What the fuck?" Nate repeated. "Why? I mean, what – why would anyone say that? What the fuck happened?"

"I believe him," Zoey confessed softly, sobering up a bit. She looked at him desperately. "Nate, he's gonna fucking kill you, and I can't – I can't let that happen. I won't let him hurt you, too."

"Somebody hurt you so bad you stopped talking," Nate pieced together. "Zoey, tell me who. Tell me right fucking now. Who was it? I'll fucking kill him."

She shook her head. "I can't."

"Nobody's gonna fucking kill me, Zebra. You gotta fucking tell me what the fuck happened."

"Stop saying fuck," she muttered. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, but if she was being honest, it was mostly to comfort herself. "I won't let you get hurt again."

Nate pressed her tight against his chest. "I got you, okay?" he promised. "You're my little sister. I'm always gonna protect you. I promise."

"I'm gonna protect you, too."

A beat passed. For the first time since The Incident, Zoey did feel safe. She was wearing Jay's big, comfy sweatshirt and cocooned in Nate's strong arms. No one could hurt her like this.

"I love you, Nate," Zoey whispered.

He almost didn't catch her words over the wind. "Love you, too."


	15. Chapter 15

When Nate and Zoey got home from the plaza, Jay was sitting on the couch waiting for them.

"Hey," Nate greeted.

"Hey," Jay replied. "Is that my sweatshirt?" he asked Zoey.

"Uh, yeah," Zoey grinned sheepishly, tugging gently on one of the strings. "Sorry."

Jay blinked in shock and quickly got to his feet. "Your voice!" he exclaimed, picking her up and swinging her around.

She giggled. "Nate gave me weed, and I can talk again!"

"You what?" Jay asked, laughing in shock as he set her down.

Nate shrugged. "We both needed it."

Jay shook his head, trying to get used to the idea. "Fuck, okay. Okay." He scratched the side of his head.

"So, your room," Nate prompted.

"Yeah, my room. Uh, sit down."

Nate took a seat on the couch, and Zoey opted for her usual spot next to him. She crossed her legs underneath herself.

"So, do you guys remember Mom?" Jay began.

"Kinda," Zoey answered.

Nate looked warily up at Jay.

"Well, she was… sort of in a bad place. So, I brought her here."

"Mom's here?" Zoey asked incredulously. "In the house?"

"Yeah, but she's. She's detoxing."

Nate's eyes darkened. "Jay, what the fuck? Dad's gonna kill you."

"He doesn't have to know," Jay countered quickly. "Look. She's family, okay?"

"That's not – " Nate started, but Zoey cut him off by holding a hand up in front of him.

"What's she on?" she asked, looking up at her oldest brother.

"H," Jay told her quietly.

"Jay!" Nate exclaimed. "You can't just fucking kidnap an addict and magically fix them. This is insane. Heroin is fucking serious!"

"I know. Don't you think that's why I got her the hell out of there?"

Nate sighed tiredly.

"How… how did you find her?" Zoey asked.

Jay sat down in the armchair. "I, uh. I kind of found her by mistake. I was driving downtown, and I saw her just standing there... I go by every couple weeks and make sure she's alright. I've been going to see her for a couple months."

"Months?!" she asked. She opened and closed her mouth a few times as she tried to decide what to say. "I thought that picture looked recent," she finally settled on.

"What picture?" Nate asked.

"The one he had out on the table when he fucking OD'ed," Zoey snapped, quickly pushing off the couch and stalking across the room.

"Zee, come on!" Jay called after her, but she vanished into her bedroom and slammed the door.

"You OD'ed?" Nate asked sharply.

Jay was silent.

"Jay."

"The day of your weigh-in," Jay admitted softly.

"And Zee found you?!"

"Needle sticking out of my fucking arm and everything," Jay told him guiltily. "She called Lisa, and she fixed it. Look, Nate, I'm not proud of it –"

"And that's why Zebra was late and you two weren't there," Nate stated.

"Yeah. Nate, I'm sorry-"

"I don't give a fuck," Nate spat, "but you can't keep Mom here."

"Why not?" Jay shot back.

"Because! She's a fucking addict, Jay. You've heard all Dad's stories about her. She left us, okay? She didn't want us, and I'm sure that's still true."

"She left because of him, not us, Nate. We've talked about this. All moms love their kids."

Nate scoffed. "Okay," he said sarcastically, standing up.

"Where are you going?"

"To sleep."

"Come on, Nate."

He followed Zoey's example and slammed his door shut, too.

Jay dropped his head into his hands and sighed. That went well.

* * *

"You look exhausted," Lisa told Alvey.

"I drove to North Hollywood."

"Why?"

"I went up to see Garo Kassabian. He wants Ryan for the King Beast card. Main title."

"But I thought the training hasn't been going well," Lisa replied, her forehead creasing.

"It hasn't, but this throws a stake in the ground, keeps him focused on something. Always helped me."

"He's your fighter," Lisa mused.

"Really? That's all you got for me? 'He's your fighter?'" Alvey mocked.

"I've got my own fighter to worry about," she murmured, shifting through a stack of papers on her desk.

Alvey huffed. "What does that mean?"

"I'm getting Jay a fight," Lisa said, proudly turning to face him.

"No, you're not," Alvey chuckled

"Yes, I am," Lisa insisted.

"You've never managed a fighter before," he reminded her.

"And there's a first time for everything," she answered, standing her ground.

"Any promoter that would sign Jay can't be trusted. Why the fuck do you want to get involved with this? What are you doing?"

"Jay's a brilliant fighter, and I really think he could be a star."

"Oh, Jesus."

"You know, I don't expect you to help me, Alvey, since I care about your kids more than you do."

"I just don't want you to interfere," Alvey retorted.

"Okay."

"And he's not representing my gym. He fights unaffiliated."

"Okay, but he's still training here," Lisa demanded.

"Not when Ryan's training."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Alvey, come on."

"No."

There was a quick knock on the door.

"Come in," Alvey instructed lazily.

Shelby was standing there nervously. "Alvey? There's some cop out here looking for you."

He and Lisa shared a quick glance before he stood up and went to the lobby. "Detective Gaines," he greeted, and the men shared a solid handshake. "How goes?"

"Ah, good," the man answered. "I was actually looking for Nate. I have a few questions I wanted to ask him."

"Nate's not here. What's going on?"

"I just need to talk to him, get clarity of a couple of things."

"Did you check the house?"

"Yeah, I did. He wasn't there, either. And he's not returning my calls. It's actually starting to hurt my feelings a little bit." He sighed. "The truth of the matter is that if we're going to get these guys, I really need Nate's cooperation."

"Yeah, absolutely, yeah," Alvey agreed. "I, uh. Jesus. I'll bring him down this afternoon."

"That'd be good."

"Okay."

"I'll see you later, huh?"

"Yeah."

* * *

"Nate! Nathan!"

Inside, Nate, Zoey, and Jay stopped arguing. They'd been fighting about what to do with Mom and whether Jay's actions had been acceptable (Nate and Zoey were insistent that they hadn't been). It was loud, and it had gotten a little heated, especially between the two boys, but at the sound of Alvey's voice, they ceased immediately.

"Fuck," Jay muttered.

"Nate," Zoey started, but Nate waved her off.

"I gotta leave anyway. See ya later. Jay, we're not done," Nate said angrily, jabbing a finger in his brother's direction.

"Nate, wait."

"I gotta go."

"Nate, open up!" Alvey yelled, knocking again. "It's your father!"

"Hey," Nate said, forcing a neutral expression onto his face as he opened the door. "What's up?"

"What's up?" Alvey echoed.

"Nothing, I'm just hanging out."

"Can I come in?" Alvey asked.

"No, I was just about to head out to physical therapy."

"Alright, no, good. You know what? I'm gonna take you, because I have to work some stuff out with the insurance anyway."

"Dad. It's fine," Nate assured. "I'll – I can handle it." He really didn't want Alvey coming to PT with him, especially with Tatiana there.

"No, we're gonna go together, and then we're gonna go see Detective Gaines, who says you haven't returned a single one of his phone calls." Alvey tried to read Nate's face, but as usual, he came up empty. "What's going on, pal?"

"Nothing. Let's just go."

"No, I want you to tell me what's going on," Alvey repeated, blocking him in the doorway.

"Nothing," Nate repeated. He was lying to his father again, but he didn't know what else to do. He tried to smile. "Promise. It's all good."

Alvey kept his hand on the small of his son's back until they reached the car.

Inside the house, it was quiet after Nate had left. Zoey always felt guilty arguing with Jay, and she didn't have the energy to keep going anyway. She sat down in her chair at the kitchen table and rested her head in her hands.

"So she's really here, then," Zoey stated.

"Yeah."

"In your room. Right there."

"Yep."

"It's weird – I never think of her as being a real person. She's more like this fantasy in my head, like… she seems like something I dreamed up. What does she look like? I only got a quick look at the picture."

Jay looked at Zoey sadly and took her hand. "She looks a little rough right now," Jay replied, "but normally, she's really pretty. She has dark hair like Nate, but not as dark as yours and Dad's. And she's kind of short – you might actually be taller than her. She has pretty eyes and shiny fingernails."

Zoey nodded, processing.

"So you got high last night?" Jay asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah."

"Was that your first time?"

"Yeah."

"Really?" he asked, his eyes betraying his surprise.

"You told me not to, so I didn't."

"Wow," Jay muttered. "I always half-thought you'd go behind my back and do it."

Zoey snorted and reached for Jay's glass of water. "Thanks for having faith in me." She took a sip.

"Did you like it?"

She swallowed and gave him a shy smile. "Yeah. It was – yeah."

"There's nothing like weed," Jay grinned. "Fucking Mary Jane. Gotta love it."

"Everything was so… it seemed perfect."

Jay nodded. "That's why I like it so much. God, I can't believe Nate let you smoke. And I can't believe you're fucking talking."

Zoey shrugged. She wasn't ready to tell Jay what she told Nate about what the doctor had said – if you gave Jay an inch, he'd take a goddamn mile. She'd never hear the end of his questions.

"I missed your voice so fucking much, Zee. Really. I felt like a chunk of you was missing," he acknowledged.

Zoey nodded.

"Look, I get that you're mad at me right now, but can I have a hug?"

She eyed him hesitantly but then sighed. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just… I don't know. I'm confused."

"About what?" he asked.

She moved forward and sat down in his lap, resting her chin over his shoulder. "That she's real," she murmured. "That she's an addict. That she was turning tricks. That you knew and you didn't say anything."

"I didn't want to worry you guys," Jay explained, running a hand down her back.

"I know."

"So you forgive me?" he asked hopefully.

"Not yet."

He sighed dramatically. "Alright." She started to sit up, but he tugged her back down and slung an arm around her. "Nuh-uh. I got a lot of time to make up for."

* * *

"So, looks like the insurance is going to cover about six more visits, but that should be enough, cause he's healing up nicely. Of course, if not, we can always work something out."

Alvey leaned forward on the reception desk at Nate's physical therapy office. "He needs to be training again as soon as possible. You have any idea when that will be?" he inquired.

"Well, he's responding well to treatment, but, you know, it's kind of hard to say."

"You don't have a professional opinion?" At the raise of the other man's eyebrows, Alvey backpedaled. "I mean, no offense. This guy just won a big fight, and he's got a lot of heat on him right now. I don't want him to lose momentum, you understand that?"

"I wish I could give you a date or a time, but everybody's different. Only Nate can let us know when he's ready."

"Hmm. Only Nate," Alvey echoed. "Okay."

"Your dad's pretty intense," Tatiana observed as she watched him through the window.

"Yeah, you could say that," Nate agreed.

"He was a fighter, too?"

"Yep. But it was pretty different back then – no weight classes, no regulation or anything, so it was pretty savage. Now I guess it's more of a sport."

Tatiana shook her head as she worked on Nate's shoulder. "I can't picture you fighting," she confessed.

"Why do you say that?" Nate asked. He knew she didn't mean it in a bad way, but he couldn't help but take it like that.

"I don't know, "she replied softly. "You just seem really sweet." She pressed hard on his shoulder, and he grimaced. "So, do you do anything else besides fighting?"

"Uh, I sleep. And I play video games." He chuckled. "You know, now that I'm saying it out loud, I realize how sad that sounds."

Tatiana laughed. "Yeah, it sounds very sad. Okay, I'm gonna think of a hobby for you," she stated. "You need to get out in the world. You need a release in your life. You don't wanna end up like your dad."

The joy drained out of Nate's face as he stared stonily through the glass at his father.

* * *

Pretty soon, Alvey and Nate were sitting in an interrogation room at the station. Nate busied himself by scrolling through his phone as Alvey drummed his fingers nervously on the table. There were three different security cameras pointing down at them, and Alvey would never admit it out loud, but they made him antsy. It was like they could see every wrong thing he'd ever done.

"Hey, put the phone away," he instructed Nate.

"Why?" Nate asked. It's not like anyone was in front of them. They were just waiting.

"Cause we're in a police station, that's why."

A moment after Nate slid his phone into his pocket, the door opened.

"Gentlemen," the detective greeted.

"Detective," Alvey replied.

"Thank you so much for coming down."

"Absolutely. We want to catch these guys."

Detective Gaines' eyes shifted from Alvey to Nate and back. "Look, uh, I'd love to talk to Nate alone if it'd be alright with you."

Alvey nodded and looked over at his son. "You good?" he asked.

"Yeah," Nate answered, more than a little relieved that Alvey was leaving.

"I'll wait outside," he said, smacking Nate on the arm as he passed.

"Won't take but a second," Gaines told him. Once Alvey was out of the room, he shifted his attention to Nate. "How you doing?"

"Good," Nate replied.

"How's your brother?" the detective asked knowingly.

Nate snorted. "He's alright."

Detective Gaines sat down in front of Nate and tossed a file onto the table. He spread it open to the middle pages. "You know these guys?" he inquired. "Carlos Cruz and Hector Romero? Venice 13 gang members."

Nate's stomach dropped as he looked at the photos in the file. Those were definitely the guys. Gang members? "No, sir," Nate lied.

"You sure? Because the CIA told me they were bragging about whoopin' some fighter's ass. Now I did a bunch of math, and I thought they might be talking about you."

"I don't know these guys," Nate reiterated.

The detective sat back in his chair and looked Nate over. "You sure? Cause if somebody did to me what they did to you, I would damn sure want them to be held accountable." He paused. "Unless I was covering for somebody."

Nate looked away.

The detective sighed and then leaned forward, lowering his voice in an attempt to coax anything out of Nate. "Son, I can't do my job if you won't talk to me."

"I don't know them," Nate repeated, pushing the file back across the table. "I'm sorry." He left the building and slid into the passenger seat of Alvey's car.

"This guy's trying to help you," Alvey told his son.

Nate stared out the window.

Alvey huffed. "Alright, that's it. You and me are having dinner tonight."

"No, I can't. I got plans," Nate said. He was supposed to meet up with Tatiana late that afternoon.

"It's not an invitation. We're having dinner. I gotta swing by the gym first, so be at my house at seven."

After Alvey dropped Nate off, he went to the gym and talked to Lisa.

"How'd it go with Nate?" she asked.

"Not good. I think he's hiding something, and I think it has something do with Jay. I'm gonna have dinner with him tonight, see if I can pry it out of him."

"Well, just take it easy on him," Lisa advised. "He's been through a trauma. He should probably be in therapy."

"I'm just gonna have dinner with him," Alvey placated. "I'm just gonna have dinner and talk to him."

* * *

Jay came home that afternoon to a stressed Zoey and an aggravated Nate. "Hey," he greeted, still shirtless, jeans riding a few inches below his gray boxers.

"What the hell happened to your hand?" Zoey asked, staring wide-eyed at his bloody knuckles.

He tried to laugh. "I, uh. I went and found Mom's pimp."

"And you beat him up? Jay, he could kill you!"

"Nah, he's a pussy," Jay replied confidently, opening the cupboard and grabbing a deep bowl.

"Those guys are serious!"

"Not him. He's white. And his name is Terry." His tone changed as he turned the sink on as cold as it would go. "Wow, Jay, are you okay? Thank you so much for standing up for Mom," he intoned. He sat down at the kitchen table and sunk his fingers into the freezing water.

Zoey rolled her eyes.

"Jay?" came Mom's voice through the wall. She sounded weak and desperate. "Jay, is that you? Get me out of here! I'm gonna die in here!"

Zoey stared wide-eyed and horrified at Jay's bedroom door. She hadn't heard a peep from Christina for the two days she'd been there. To think that the scary voice behind the wall was her mother...

Nate stormed into the kitchen. "Let her out," he urged. "Fucking let her out, Jay."

"Do you know how long it took me to make that door?" Jay asked calmly.

"Oh, fuck off!" Nate exclaimed. "This isn't cool."

"That reminds me – we can't have any friends over for a little bit, guys."

Zoey rolled her eyes.

"No, I don't want her in this house. I don't want her in this house!" Nate was yelling by the time he finished.

"She's your mother, Nate."

Nate clenched his jaw and looked to Zoey for backup.

"Are you sure this is the best place for her?" she asked Jay. "We don't know what the fuck we're doing, and she clearly doesn't want to be here. Maybe we should –"

"You two think I did this because I had a choice?" Jay inquired defensively. "It's two fucking things. It's this, or it's Mom getting shot up with dope and gutterfucked for a nickel. Your mother."

Zoey swallowed, ashamed, and Jay shifted his gaze to his brother.

"Your mother, Nate."

Jay looked back and forth between Nate and Zoey, and at their expressions, he angrily stood up. "We're doing this. So don't go over to that door, and don't talk to her if she starts yelling at you. She's dope sick. So she's gonna say fucking anything to get out of there. But once she comes through this, you're both gonna see who she really is."

Jay reached for Nate, but he stepped backwards, stopping just in front of Zoey. Zee closed her fingertips around the side of Nate's heathered t-shirt, just above his hip.

Jay nodded, realizing they were uniting against him. "Okay," he muttered in defeat, and he sat back down to ice his hand some more.

Zoey rested her forehead against Nate's shoulder blade. They all stayed still in the silent kitchen for several moments.

Jay reached tiredly for a cigarette.

* * *

A few hours later, Nate met his father for mandatory dinner. Alvey set steak and a baked potato down in front of him, and Nate was partially glad he'd been forced to come. They never got food like this at Jay's.

Nate's phone buzzed. He peeked at it and quickly scanned the text from Tatiana. Out with friends if you're bored. AK and San Juan. X – Tatiana. He reluctantly slid the phone back into his pocket.

Alvey sat down next to Nate and dug into his steak. "Okay," he said. "What are we going to do about this?"

"About what?"

"You're not talking to me… you're not talking to the police…"

"Why do I have to talk about anything? This happened to me."

"Because a lot of people care about you, Nate," Alvey explained. He chewed and swallowed. "And these people need to be punished. That's why."

"What if I just want to let it go?"

"Does this have anything to do with your brother?" Alvey asked aggressively.

Nate huffed angrily.

"Does it?" Alvey prompted.

"You wanna know the truth?" he snapped.

Alvey raised his eyebrows, surprised that it had been that easy to crack him. "Yeah."

"Okay," Nate spat. "When those guys were fucking stomping on my head, they did say something. They said, 'Tell your dad we said what's up.'"

Alvey froze.

"What does that mean? Huh?" Nate asked, almost taunting him. "The truth is, that I don't even fucking care. I just want it to go away. And I want you to go away," growled Nate. "Leave me the fuck alone."

"Nate," Alvey interjected.

"Stay away from me," he said firmly. "You owe me that."

Nate ignored Alvey calling after him as he walked around to the front of the house.

* * *

At home, Zoey was standing in the doorway of Jay's room, watching her oldest brother as he took care of their sick mother. Christina was sweaty and pale, clearly unaware of what was going on.

Zoey didn't like how Jay laid a blanket over Mom the way he would for Zoey when she was ill. She wasn't okay with the way Jay ran his hand over their mother's hair and put a cool washcloth on her forehead like he used to when Zoey had a fever. Jay was supposed to take care of her, not this woman that none of them knew. Not the woman who had left them for dead.

Jay's gold cross necklace glinted in the glow from the streetlight outside, and he looked up at Zoey, noticing her there for the first time. His eyes glinted in the dark. He looked as though he was about to speak when there was a knock.

Jay stilled like a deer in the headlights, but Zoey was unfazed. She wordlessly slipped out of her brother's view and walked through the kitchen to open the front door. "Hey," she mumbled, and then there was a rustling sound. The door shut behind her.

Jay listened curiously, but he couldn't hear anything over the low murmur of conversation.

"Why are you doing this to me?" his mom asked in a scratchy voice.

Jay jumped; he hadn't even known she was awake. He opted to ignore her, slotting all the locks into place when he left. He opened the door, and standing in the yard were Zoey and Lisa. Lisa's hands were on Zoey's shoulders, and they were standing closer together than Jay had ever seen them. Zoey reached out to take Lisa's hand.

"Hey," Jay muttered tiredly, leaning on the doorjamb.

"Hi," Lisa sassed, turning to face him. "Where have you been all day?"

"Um… deep in prayer," Jay invented.

"Are you okay?" Lisa asked. She sounded truly concerned.

"Yeah," Jay mumbled.

"Then why the fuck haven't you called me back?" she asked loudly, letting go of Zoey's hand and moving forward to smack him across the stomach.

He dramatically rolled his eyes. "As I said, I was deep in prayer."

"You know, I don't even care. I got you a fight."

"What?!" Zoey exclaimed.

Jay gave her a tired smile.

"You're gonna fight again?" she asked. She sounded almost hopeful.

"Zee, you wanna go inside?" Jay asked.

"Ugh, fine," Zoey grumbled.

Lisa pulled her into a hug. "Love you," she stated.

"Love you, too," Zoey replied. She smiled at Lisa, flipped Jay off, and then disappeared into the house.

"Did you ditch my old man for my baby sister?" he joked.

"Fuck off. I didn't know she was talking again."

"Oh, yeah. That's a new development." He shook his head. "So, who's the promoter?"

"Bucky DeMarco."

Jay blew a raspberry.

"But wait, it gets worse! It's a welterweight. Against Ransom Galbi."

Jay turned on his heel and flatly asked, "When?"

"Three days."

He paused. "How much?"

"Jack shit and a piece of your gate."

"How big a piece?"

"A sliver."

He sighed. "Where?"

"He doesn't have a place yet, but it will definitely be sad and depressing."

"So… three days out, and he doesn't have a venue?"

"He has a cage, and he has a tent. He just needs a place to put it."

Jay glanced away and then back at her. He nodded slowly. "It sounds like a good opportunity, but I think I'm gonna pass."

Lisa looked straight at him. "Jay, I called everyone. Bucky's the only one who would give us a fight." She forced a tight smile. "Everyone thinks you're a head case."

"Yeah, I may be, but I don't need to take it in the fucking ass from a douche like Bucky."

"Oh no, you're taking it in the ass if you want to fight," Lisa said in that dangerously calm voice of hers. "That's where you're at. If you think that there's gonna be something better that's gonna come along, I'm here to tell you that it's not. It's this or nothing."

Jay glanced up at the sky and then over to the door, where Zoey was watching not-so-subtly through the glass panes. She nodded at him. He looked back at Lisa. "You got tape on this guy?" he asked.

"You'll have it by tomorrow," she assured him.

Zoey smiled and vanished into the kitchen.

"I'm gonna be at the gym tomorrow pretty early. Ish. Like around noon. Bring it."

"Hey," Lisa said, her voice kind again. "You okay?"

Jay was worried that if he didn't get away from her right away, he might crumble. It was so tempting to tell her everything when she used that tone. But then she would tell Alvey what Jay had done, and they'd all be fucked. So instead, he swallowed and forced out a, "Yeah," in the most normal voice he could muster. He went into the house and poured himself a drink. After a few seconds of thought, he poured one for Zoey, too.

Zoey felt a rush of warmth as, across town, Tatiana wrapped Nate in a hug outside Local 1205, the restaurant she'd been referring to that sat on Abbot Kinney and San Juan, and led him inside. An hour later, Jay's phone would buzz with a message informing him that Nate wouldn't be home until the next morning.

Zoey was sitting on the couch with her feet on the coffee table and headphones covering her ears. She had her eyes closed, but Jay could tell she was awake. He joined her on the couch, nudged her, and handed her the glass. She looked at him for a moment before taking a sip and shutting her eyes again.

Jay listened to his mom bang on the door for a bit, but he opted for headphones soon as well. He kicked his shoes up on the coffee table next to Zoey's bare feet and tried to ignore the fact that he could still hear the dull pounding coming from his room.


	16. Chapter 16

"You think you're gonna make me live with something, motherfucker?" Alvey asked, weaving his fingers into the cage wall. His body and clothes were covered in gooey, crimson blood splatters. Fresh blood dripped from his temple as he got in the last guy's face. The first two were already dead.

"You think I don't have enough shit?" Alvey inquired. His eyes bore into the other man's. The guy's mouth was sealed shut with duct tape, and his eyes, unlike Alvey's blank ones, were wild with fear.

Alvey stood upright and reached behind himself for a mallet. "Lower your head, please," he directed, "and bow to the king." He swung, and right before the metal connected with the man's skull, Alvey jolted awake.

He was tangled in his sheets, and sweat coated his forehead. His t-shirt was stuck to his body. He quickly got out of bed and staggered to the bathroom to splash a few handfuls of water on his face and try to slow his panting.

Two of the men he'd murdered in his dream were the men that had attacked Nate, and the third was a faceless son of a bitch that represented the motherfucker that had had the nerve to mess with Zoey.

Alvey needed – he needed his fucking medicine. He reached behind the mirror for the bottle and unscrewed the cap with shaking hands. He popped one of the pills and dry swallowed, but as soon as he felt it go down, he regretted his decision. He stuck two fingers into his mouth and pushed them back until he triggered his gag reflex. He vomited quietly into the sink.

Alvey peeled off his shirt and laid back down in bed, carefully straightening out his half of the blanket. Luckily, Lisa had slept through the entire episode. She never needed to find out about this.

He stared at the ceiling until the sun rose.

* * *

At breakfast, Lisa was dressed, but Alvey was still in a robe.

"Hide the gun from me," Alvey requested, sliding the case across the kitchen counter.

"Okay," Lisa said slowly. Her hands looked so small and slender as she reached for the weapon. "Is this about Zee?"

"Actually, no. It's Nate."

"Nate?"

"A couple of nights – or, days – before Nate got attacked, I was on my run. I got jumped by a couple of Mexican dudes on the path. I bumped into 'em, it was no big deal, but we got into it. Good. Last night, Nate tells me that after these guys beat the shit out of him, they said to him, 'tell your pops we said what's up.'"

Lisa's eyes widened.

Alvey sighed. "I told the police, but they couldn't make a connection. I should have – I should have pressed him before."

"I don't fucking understand. Why didn't Nate say something to us sooner?"

"I don't know," Alvey groaned. "Maybe he didn't want me to make it worse, Lisa. I mean, he knows I'm not a rational man, and neither is his brother."

"So does Jay know?"

"No. And he won't know until I tell him."

"Does Zee?"

Alvey shook his head. "Not unless Nate already told her, and I doubt he did. She's got too much on her plate already. And if she knows, she'll never want Nate out of her sight. I'm not gonna tell her." He ran a hand over his hair, but he quickly got angry again. "Ten years ago, I would have fucking lit these guys up."

Lisa quickly placed a calming hand on his arm.

"All of 'em, Zo's guy, too," he continued. "I would've chopped them to pieces. How's that for growth?"

* * *

"Look at you, you little scamp!" Jay crowed as Nate walked his bike up the path. He and Zee were sitting on the ground in the shade of the house eating a breakfast of bacon and Cheerios. "Where were you last night, huh?"

"Don't worry about it."

"'Don't worry about it?'" Jay echoed. "Did somebody take a little trip to the boom-boom room? Is that where you were? Were you in the boom-boom room?"

Nate and Zoey were sporting identical expressions – disgusted and embarrassed with a hint of amusement – but Jay wasn't done.

"Was it the therapist? Did you take your clothes off and have a little game of wrestling?"

"Alright, her name is Tatiana," Nate clarified.

Zoey smirked. "Is she your girlfriend?" she mocked.

"Shut up," Nate muttered, leaning down to shove her shoulder. Zoey backhanded his calf.

"Tatiana," Jay grinned. "Awwwwh! I'm proud of you. My baby boy, I always hoped you'd meet a good doctor, I did!" he teased. "I'm so damn proud of you."

Nate looked to Zoey for help, but she just shook her head and smiled at Jay's antics.

"Havin' sex, growin' up," Jay mused. "Boy. Bam!" He whacked Nate on the side of the head and then punched his chest. "No sex for you though!" Jay told Zoey.

She blinked and quickly brushed off the twisting in her stomach. She faked a big smile.

"Alright, can we stop?" Nate asked. He escaped into the house, but he could still hear Zoey.

"Nate and Tatiana, sittin' in a tree!" she called after him.

Jay joined her. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Shut up!"

* * *

Zoey's door was open that night when Jay came home from his weigh-in. He peeked inside, and when he saw that she was sleeping, he quietly shut the door. Nate's room was open, too. Jay stopped in the doorway. "Hey," he greeted softly. He motioned to his room where Mom was still locked in, and asked, "How'd it go?"

Nate was lying on his side messing with his phone. He glanced up at Jay, but didn't move otherwise. "She was banging on the door for a little while, but then she stopped, so I guess she fell asleep."

Jay nodded. "Okay. Is Zee still talking?"

"Uh, yeah. Are you expecting her to stop?"

"No, just making sure. You know."

"Oh, okay. Good."

"Thanks for staying here with them," Jay said. "I know you wanted to come with me tonight. But it's gonna be over soon."

"Yeah, well then what?"

"I don't know," Jay muttered as he walked away. "One day at a time, Nate."

Nate got to his feet and followed his brother to the kitchen. He was dying for some male company. It had been great having Zoey back around as her normal self, but it was Jay that Nate needed tonight. "Hey, man, how'd the weigh-in go?"

"Ah, same shit," he mused, grabbing a beer from the gas station cooler. "He's a big fucking dude, though."

"How's your hand feel?"

Jay used his t-shirt to crack open the drink. "Mac's gonna come by tomorrow. He's gonna see if he can give me anything."

Nate watched Jay take a slow pull from the beer bottle. "Well, why don't you sleep in my bed tonight?" he offered.

"Ah, I'm good. I got the couch."

"No, man, you got a big fight tomorrow. You gotta get some rest."

"Yeaaaahhhh," Jay grinned. He shadowboxed for emphasis. "I do got a big fight tomorrow." He sat the beer down and looked at Nate. "Yeah, okay. Okay, thanks, dude."

"It's all good." Nate stayed at the counter, debating whether to crash on the couch or make Zee scoot over so he could sleep in her bed, when he suddenly had a thought. "Jay!"

The older boy turned around.

"If you jerk off in my sheets, I swear to god, I'll kill you."

"Bring it," Jay deadpanned, rubbing a hand over his crotch. "Cause I'm jerkin'!" He mimed it, and Nate shook his head.

The middle Kulina finished off Jay's beer, went into Zoey's bedroom, and nudged his sleeping sister until she woke.

"Nate, what the hell? I wasn't having a bad dream," she grumbled.

"I know. Scoot over, loser."

She sighed tiredly, but obliged. "Just let me sleep," she whined.

"Be quiet," he hushed, slipping under the covers. He moved back until their spines were resting against each other.

"You be quiet," she commanded, kicking his shin. "Stop moving. I'm sleeping."

"Night, Zebra."

"Night, Dorkface."

He rolled his eyes. "I hate you."

"I hate you, too."

* * *

"He had the gun. He started it," Alvey remembered, jabbing a finger at the mug shot on the desk in front of him. "The fatso jumped in later. What happens now?"

Detective Gaines sat back in his chair. "I need Nate to come in, and I need him to ID these guys. And he's got to be willing to testify if it goes that far."

"Alright, I'll talk to him," Alvey assured.

"And here's the other thing; they're going to try and intimidate you. So if anybody shows up at your gym, shows up at your house –"

"I've got a gun," Alvey interrupted. "It's – legal. Registered."

The detective chuckled. "They got more. Call us. Don't try and handle this thing yourself."

Alvey sighed.

"Alvey. Why didn't you mention this from the beginning?"

He shook his head. "I don't know… I don't know."

* * *

"Well, you got a slight fracture," Mac diagnosed. "It's gonna hurt like fuck."

The three Kulina kids were outside relaxing. Zoey was perched on top of the picnic table, helping Nate pack a corner tote full to the brim with supplies. Nate was shirtless and Zoey was in a bathing suit even though she had no plans to go swimming. She kept her arms pressed close to her sides. It was ridiculously hot, even for the end of June.

Jay had stripped down to his favorite white undershirt and was sitting across the table from Mac with a striped button-down shirt draped around his neck. "Yeah?" he sassed. "I can tell. You know how I can tell, Mac? Cause it hurts like fuck."

Zoey laughed.

"Ooh, fight Jay is snippy!" Mac muttered sarcastically.

"Can you shoot it with some fucking cortisone or something?" Jay asked impatiently.

"It's too late for that. I can give you some Toradol for the inflammation, and some Marcaine for the pain. You're gonna be able to make a fist, but it's gonna show up on a drug test."

"Well, there's not gonna be a drug test, cause it's an eat shit fucking dick Bucky card." He shook his head and muttered, "Drug test. We'll be lucky if we have a fucking ref."

Mac stood up. "Okay, well I'm gonna take a piss and get outta here."

Zoey gave Nate a look.

"What?"

She widened her eyes and gave him the look again.

"Fuck. Jay," Nate muttered.

No response.

"Jay!" Nate repeated sharply.

"What, man?" Jay asked, exasperated. Then he dropped the sass. "Oh." He called to Mac, "Hey, dude, piss outside."

"What? I'm not a fucking animal, I'm gonna go in the house."

"Dude! Piss in the bush. We're already outside. Nobody's goin' inside."

"That's bizarre," Mac murmured, but he followed Jay's direction. He walked a few feet to the left and reached for his belt buckle.

Nate quickly reached up to cover his little sister's eyes. She snorted.

"Dude, not in front of the fucking house, Mac!" Jay exclaimed incredulously.

"Yeah, but goddammit, you said a bush!" Mac protested. "I don't know what bush!"

"I know, but dude, don't be a fucking animal! And hey, Zee's still a minor, man! Not to mention a fucking lady!"

"Well, I don't know about that," Nate countered.

Jay and Zoey both whacked him.

"Okay, hey, come on, Jay," Nate said, careful to be quiet enough that Mac couldn't hear them. "Hey, hey, look at me."

Jay turned his head toward his little brother.

"You gotta focus up, alright? Everything's good here. I got Mom and Zee. It's all taken care of. You're gonna have a great fight, alright?"

"I wish you guys could come," Jay muttered, trying not to let his sadness seep into his voice.

"Yeah, but we already know you're gonna win, so…" Zee smiled.

"Come here, you," Jay said, reaching around her and grabbing her.

She squeaked. "You're all sweaty!" she protested. "No, no!" She pushed his arms off.

"Feeeeeeeel the sweat!" Jay crowed, shaking his hair at her.

"Jay, no! AHHH!"

Nate squinted and put a hand up to block any spray that could come his way.

Jay smashed a big kiss onto Zoey's forehead.

"Ughhhhh!"

"I love you," he declared to both his kids.

"You, too," Nate agreed.

"I love you, too," Zoey said, too sweetly.

Jay eyed her skeptically, knowing what that tone meant. She was going to do something, he just didn't know what.

Suddenly, she leaned up and snatched the button-down from around his neck and jogged away from the table. Nate caught a quick flash of red on her arm. He squinted after her, but he didn't see anything else.

"Zee! No, hey! Zee, come back here, I gotta go soon!"

"Then you'd better come and get me!" she sang. She laughed as she darted through the doorway.

"Fuck!" Jay growled playfully, chasing into the house after her. "Zoey Grace! You little-!"

It was less than twenty seconds before there was a loud crash, a shriek from Zoey, and a shout of triumph from Jay. Then there came a frantic burst of laughter from Zoey as Jay began her punishment – endless tickling.

Nate shook his head in amusement. In all seriousness, though, they'd be lucky if Jay didn't get more injured before he even left the house.

* * *

After Jay left, Nate showed Zoey how to smoke weed from a bowl. Within an hour, she was languidly draped across the couch, laughing too much at the Ghostbusters marathon Nate had stumbled across on TV. Nate was laid out in the easy chair that Jay usually occupied, listening to his sister's nonsensical running commentary. "This is the life," he murmured, blowing smoke up the ceiling.

"You sound like Jay," Zoey told him. "I," she giggled, "don't want anything to do with this life. I'm fucking out of here, man. Soon."

"You really gonna leave us?"

They were both so high that the words came easily from their mouths.

"Yeah, dude, I mean, fuck. Jay doesn't give a damn about us now that he has his mom back."

"She's your mom, too," Nate pointed out.

"Like you give a fuck about that either."

Nate shrugged.

"I'm just saying. Everything will be better when I'm not around anymore."

She fell quiet. She stared at the carpet, trying hard not to think about what happened to her there. But it was hard to focus on not thinking about that when Nate was staring even harder at the carpet than she was.

"Stop thinking so loud," she finally said. "I can't hear the movie over your brain." She didn't mean it literally, but Nate was really concentrating.

"Sorry. Just, you don't mean like… suicide, right?"

Zoey blew smoke out of her nostrils, and then laughed in shock. "That was an accident!" she exclaimed, coughing a little. She rubbed at the side of her nose.

"Hey," Nate said, ignoring her attempt at distracting him. "Do you want to kill yourself?"

"I don't know. I mean, I've thought about it."

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah... Just, with everything that's going on, I mean, I thought it would be easier on you and Jay if I wasn't – "

"Fuck no," Nate argued, anger seeping into his voice. "You don't get to abandon this family."

"It's not abandoning you. It's helping you."

"Oh yeah? How does a dead sister help me? And Jay, huh? What the fuck's he gonna think? He's gonna kill himself, too."

"No, he won't," Zoey replied easily.

"He won't," Nate repeated flatly. "You know how much he feels things."

"Nate, as long as you're around, Jay will be, too. Trust me. He'll never get tired of you."

Nate shook his head. "He's not 'tired' of anyone. And it doesn't work like that. Listen to me, Zebra. Listen. Hey. Look at me."

Zoey sat up slightly and made eye contact with him.

"I know you've been… really upset lately, cause I can feel it. And I know that some shit went down that you're not talking about. But listen. If you die, and then Jay dies, I'm not gonna make it."

Zoey looked down at her hands.

Nate reached over and muted the TV. "Uh-uh, no. Look at me. Look at me, Zoey. If you kill yourself, you might as well shoot Jay and me first."

"Then why doesn't –" she started loudly. She quickly cut herself off and reeled herself back in.

"What?" Nate pressed. "Zebra, tell me."

She looked at him, thinking.

"Please, it's me."

Zoey fumbled with her fingers. "If I mean so much to you two, why doesn't anybody see that I'm hurting?"

Nate tilted his head at her. "You can talk to me," he told her softly.

Zoey took one look at the sincerity in his expression, and tears filled her eyes. She shook her head and tried to smile.

"Nuh-uh," he protested. "Don't do that. It's been a long time, but… we used to tell each other everything, remember?"

She looked away. "Remember when I said it was really bad? At the promenade?"

Nate nodded.

"I wasn't kidding. I got, um." She shook her head, stopping herself. What the fuck was she doing?! She couldn't just spill this.

"Are you pregnant?" Nate asked.

Zoey huffed a surprised laugh. "No, no, it's um. That I could take care of on my own. A few hundred bucks and I'm back to normal. No, this is... different. Look, Nate, I want to tell you, I really do. But this is a big deal, and I can't just-"

"Okay," Nate interrupted. He wasn't angry like Zoey expected him to be; he actually sounded a little sad.

"I really do want to tell you," she mumbled. "I just can't, and I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Nate scooted towards her and put his arm around her shoulders.

She gladly leaned into his chest. He felt so warm.

"Do you remember when we were kids and Jay took us to that circus thing? And you ate all that blue cotton candy and then you puked on the way home, and it was all blue, just like the cotton candy?"

Zoey smiled at the memory. "Yeah."

"And do you remember later that night when Jay was at work and you came and slept in my bed?"

"No."

"Well, you did. And I thought you were gonna throw up in my bed, but I let you sleep with me anyway."

"You shouldn't have," Zoey told him.

"Well, I thought about kicking you out. But then I remembered the way your face looked after you threw up. You were so sad and embarrassed, and you were only like four. And I just kept thinking it was my job to make sure you never felt like that again. So I let you stay."

"That was really nice of you."

Nate shrugged.

"I'm serious. But… what made you think of that now?"

"I'm getting there. You were lying next to me in bed that night, and you, like, snuggled into my shoulder. You hadn't done that in a while. And when you did it, I caught a whiff of your breath, and even though I'd watched you brush your teeth, I could still smell the cotton candy puke."

"Oh, god," Zoey laughed, "I'm sorry."

"But there was something about it that just made me think, there is nowhere else in the world I'd rather be right now than making sure my little sister falls asleep okay."

"I love you," Zoey said softly.

"Yeah, you too," Nate replied. He lightly punched her shoulder, but she surprised him by leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Thanks for always waking me up from my nightmares. And letting me sleep in your bed even with puke breath."

"No problem. Hey, thanks for letting me sleep in your bed this week. Just… don't kill yourself, okay? Ever. Me and Jay love you."

"Sure, okay. Can we turn the movie back on now? And can I have some more weed?"

* * *

Around midnight, Nate blinked awake to the sound of his cell phone vibrating on the coffee table. He sat up and groggily reached for it, quickly sliding his thumb across it to answer. "Hello?"

"Hey," Lisa yelled into the phone. "He won!"

"Fuck yeah," Nate smiled, his voice thick from sleep. "Tell him we said congrats."

"I will if I can find him! He just disappeared. He's being weird."

"Oh," Nate replied awkwardly.

"I'm sure he's fine. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah. Night."

"Night!"

"Did he win?" Zoey asked sleepily from the other end of the couch.

Nate yawned and patted her ankle. "Yeah, Zebra, he won."

Zoey smiled and laid back down on the armrest.

"I'm gonna go to bed, okay?" Nate told her.

"Mmkay."

Nate went to the kitchen to set a beer on ice for his brother. He scrawled a short message on the back of an envelope and laid it next to the beer, which he left on the coffee table. He couldn't help but reach across the couch to tug the throw blanket down and drape it over his sleeping sister's legs. He left his door open when he went to sleep.

Jay got back half an hour later to a silent house. All the lights were off, but there was enough glow coming in from the streetlamp outside for him to see Zoey's still silhouette on the couch. He pulled her blanket up over her shoulders and bent down to kiss her hair. "Goodnight, Zee," he whispered.

His eyes landed on the beer on the coffee table, and he picked up the envelope lying next to it. Big win! it read in skinny black Sharpie. Proud of you. Love you bro. – N

Jay smiled down at the note. He went to Nate's room to say thanks, but the kid was already snoozing. "Night, monkey," Jay murmured. "Love you, too." He closed Nate's door and went to check on Mom. She didn't move when Jay unlocked the deadbolts or when the door squeaked on its way open, but she was still breathing. Jay stood in the doorway, watching his mother sleep. His heart swelled as he looked at her. He'd really done it – he had saved her.

Jay bolted the door again from top to bottom, taking care not to wake her. If Christina woke up, the whole house was sure to be up again, and Jay didn't want to deal with his siblings' discomfort, not to mention their silent union against him. He understood it, he supposed, but he still didn't care for it. He just wanted to celebrate his win with some peace and quiet.

He let himself into Zoey's room, where he shut the door behind himself and cracked open his beer. He sat on the edge of her bed and glanced at the new library book on her nightstand. He pulled it toward himself. It was called The Last Time We Say Goodbye, and the summary on the back was… disturbing. Jay could gather that it was about suicide. That seemed pretty dark compared to Zoey's usual tastes. She tended to go for girly teen love stories – her shelves were peppered with Sarah Dessen, Meg Cabot, and John Green, not death stuff. Yikes.

Jay shook his head, slowly drank the beer, and then let himself lie down. He'd showered before he left the arena, but now that he wasn't moving anymore, he realized that he could still smell blood. He shut his eyes.

He sniffed Zoey's pillow like he always did, and then left her lamp on so he could stare at the sweet photo on her nightstand until he fell asleep.

* * *

The next day, Nate was unable to stop himself from barging in on Tatiana at work. It was unusual for him; he was usually such a quiet guy, but he was bursting with unspoken feelings.

He opened the door to her office and found her with a patient, but he spoke anyway. "Can I talk to you?"

"You're not scheduled today," she said, immediately on the defense.

"Can I talk to you?" he repeated.

"About what?"

At his silence, she excused herself from her client and led Nate into a private space.

"I wanted to apologize," Nate told her.

"For what?"

"For not being around, for not calling back, for…" He scratched his head. "Everything."

"Yeah, I don't like to get fucked and dodged. That doesn't feel good."

Nate looked away and sighed.

"Okay, look, you're – you're probably a good guy, Nate." She huffed. "Or I don't know, maybe you're not. Maybe you're just a quiet asshole and it takes a little longer to see it. Either way, I crossed a line that I never cross, and it's affecting your treatment. That makes me a bad PT." Her voice quieted. "And that makes me feel like a stupid girl. So Diego's going to handle your treatment from now on." She started to walk away, but Nate called after her.

"I didn't mean to disrespect you!"

She turned, looking at him with sad eyes.

"Alright, that's – look, there's. A lot going on, and I can't tell you about it."

"It's alright. I believe you. I really hope you figure it out, but I've gotta get back to work."

Nate pursed his lips. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Z: You ok?

Nate ignored the message and slowly walked home.

* * *

"You're not gonna believe what happened today."

"What?" Alvey asked, looking across the table to his girlfriend.

"Well, I went to see Ryan like we talked about."

"Yeah, how the fuck did that go?" he asked, biting the head off a spear of asparagus.

Lisa shook her head. "In some ways, worse than I expected. Better in others."

"What happened?"

"Ryan's roommate flashed his dick at me."

"What?!"

Lisa chuckled. She'd been waiting to see the floored expression on Alvey's face since he got home. "It's fine. He was harmless."

"The Keith guy?"

"Yeah, I think that was his name. Kinda short, real wide."

"His cock?"

"No!" Lisa laughed. "Oh my god, shut the fuck up."

"I'm just asking," Alvey replied. Then he shook his head. "Jesus."

"Yeah. But before that, Ryan and I were talking… he wants me to call his parents."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know, to see how they feel about him or some shit. This program? I know he hates it, but I really think it's working for him. I mean, he honestly wants to apologize to them, especially to his dad. And he misses his mom like hell. So I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do, say no?"

Alvey sighed and swallowed a gulp of water. "Do whatever you want, sweetheart."

Lisa had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

They ate quietly for a moment.

"So, how are your kids? The little ones."

Alvey gave her a look. "They're not little. They're adults."

"Zee's not."

"Yeah, but she's about to be." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Fuck."

"Alvey. How are they doing?"

"I don't know. They live with their brother."

"You haven't checked in on them? After what Nate confessed? After you went to the police station? After what that doctor told you about Zee and what Zee said to me?"

Alvey shrugged. "Not yet. I mean, it's only been like, three days."

"Fuck, Alvey," Lisa shot back angrily. "I spend all damn day worrying about all three of your kids, and you don't even have the balls to ask them how they're doing?"

"You can talk to them whenever you want, Lis," Alvey stated tiredly. He wasn't in the mood to fight. He just wanted to eat in peace.

"I do," Lisa snapped. "Who was the one managing Jay last night and chasing after him when he was acting cagey? You should have been there. He had a great fight. Who was the one that called Nate and said goodnight? Who was the one that did all that research on childhood trauma this weekend? I'm the only one your daughter's talking to right now. That should tell you something."

Alvey sat back and dropped his napkin onto the table. "What the fuck do you want from me, sweet cheeks?"

"Well, for starters, I'd like to see you give a fuck about what's going on with your children. How many times do I have to say something about this? I mean, yeah, they're not completely dependent anymore, but you're their father, and they need you, Alvey. All three of them are too proud to admit it, but they fucking need you. And instead of being a dad, all you do is put pressure on Nate to be good in the cage, and that alienates all of them. Nate hates it, and the other two hate that you only care about Nate."

"I don't only care about Nate," Alvey retorted grudgingly.

"Really?" Lisa asked, her voice dripping with defiance. "Cause you keep saying that, but I'm really starting to see where Zee's coming from when she says you don't love her. All I see is some weak fucker who'd rather watch old fight videos and spend time with an ex-convict than make sure his daughter feels safe. And what the fuck do you think Jay thinks about all this, huh? He feels like he was never good enough to deserve your love or attention. Anybody can see that. But what do you do, you keep pushing him away when all he wants is you to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him, 'Good job, kid.' I mean, seriously, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Oh, give it a rest," Alvey moaned. "My kids are fine. And leave Wheeler out of this."

"They are NOT fine! I – you know what? I'm not doing this with you."

"Good," Alvey spat.

"I'm taking this to my room. You can stay here." Lisa grabbed her plate and her glass and promptly left the kitchen, leaving Alvey grumbling to himself and stabbing at his food.


	17. Chapter 17

On the sixth day Christina was in the house, Jay brought her out of his room and ran a hot bath for her. It was a bit odd, taking his mother's clothes off, but he tried not to let himself think about it. Instead, he was more focused on the fact that under her t-shirt, she was just skin and bones.

She went willingly into the warm water, drawing her knees up to her chest like Zoey often did. Jay was silent as he set to work, gently scrubbing her skin with soap.

* * *

"That's Nate's chair," Zoey said. She'd just walked into the kitchen to find Christina in Nate's usual place, which had forced Nate into Jay's.

Christina turned, and she almost looked as though she was seeing a ghost.

Zoey raised her eyebrows, waiting.

"You're – you're really tall," Christina told her. "In my head, I always picture you as a new baby."

"Well, I'm not. And you're in Nate's chair."

"It's fine," Jay cut in swiftly. "Right, Nate?"

Nate barely looked up from his phone. "Yeah," he answered tonelessly.

Zoey sat down in her normal seat, and she casually slid it a few inches towards Nate. He didn't look up, but he tapped twice on the top of his phone to let her know to check hers. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw a stream of texts he'd been sending her since he sat down in the kitchen a few minutes prior.

 **10:11 AM**

N: Mom's out here. Wtf.  
N: Her voice is weird, but I think I remember it.  
N: Are you awake yet? I need backup.  
N: Zee she just sat in my fucking chair. Where the hell are you?

Z: We'll get her to move later. She can have Jay's chair since he's so in love with her.

Nate snorted a laugh when his phone buzzed with Zoey's reply.

"What's so funny?" Jay asked.

"Nothing," Nate and Zoey answered at the same time.

Jay ignored them and walked over to the table to pour Christina a cup of coffee.

She whispered, "Thank you."

Jay kissed the top of her head, and Zoey's eyes narrowed in jealousy. "You're welcome, Mom," he replied, smiling a smile Zoey had never seen on his face before.

Z: Not cool.

"You know what I should do?" Christina asked, almost breathlessly. Nate was right – her voice was pretty weird. "I should cook you guys dinner."

That got Nate to look up at her.

"That's a beautiful idea," Jay responded.

"It'll be fun," Christina said. "I'll walk to the store."

"Why don't you just put together a list, and I'll go?" Jay offered. He stood at the counter and ate his oatmeal.

"Jay, what are you gonna do? Crate me?"

N: I know. This is fucking weird.  
N: Dinner could be good though.

Z: Yeah til she drugs us with sleeping pills so she can escape back to her pimp and her dope.

"Zebra," Nate warned out loud.

She shrugged. "I'm just saying. It could happen!"

"Ay, quit it," Jay told them. "Put the phones away. We're having family breakfast."

"Then why are you the only one eating?" Nate asked.

"Nate could come with me," Christina suggested, pulling the conversation back to grocery shopping.

"I can't, I've got physical therapy," Nate quickly said.

"Well then, I'll go with you," Christina told Nate. "And then afterwards, we can go to the store." At Jay's nervous expression, Christina added, "Guys. I'm just feeling a little cooped up, you know, like I've been locked in the house."

Zoey eyed Nate, who was staring back at her.

"Now, Mom, why would you feel like that?" Jay joked through a mouthful of oatmeal.

Nate silently snorted in disbelief as Christina laughed. It wasn't funny.

"We'll all go," Jay announced, leaning on the back of Zoey's seat.

"Yeah, I love the grocery store. All the free samples," Zoey said, trying to participate.

"No, Zoey. I think Nate and I can handle it," Christina said.

"Oh, um. Okay."

Zoey fidgeted with her hands. She didn't want to spend time with a woman she didn't know, but like she'd told Nate a while before, she was desperate for a mom. She didn't know how to feel. Jay wanted Christina so badly, and clearly, Christina was interested in Nate, and there Zoey was, slipping through the cracks again. She lowered her head. She silently counted to thirty and then left the room.

"What's up with her?" Christina asked.

Jay shook his head as he plopped into Zoey's chair. "No idea," he lied. "She just does that sometimes."

Nate glared at Jay.

* * *

A few hours later found Jay pulling through the Navy Street parking lot, honking his horn repeatedly as he drove up to a dressed up Wheeler. "Hey, Biff!" he called. His eye was still a little swollen, and his elbow was still busted up and red, but Ryan was glad to see him.

"Jay," he greeted. Then he leaned down a little to look through the window. "Little Zee."

"Hey, Ry!"

Ryan grinned when he heard Zoey's voice. "She speaks! You doin' better?" he asked, reaching into the car across Jay for her hand.

"Yeah," she smiled as he squeezed her fingers. "Thanks."

"We were worried about you. Glad you're okay."

"Where are you off to?" Jay asked.

"Actually, we're gonna go see my parents," Ryan told him, motioning to Lisa's car.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jay said sincerely, toning it down. "I didn't mean to make a joke." The two shook hands.

"You look fuckin' good," Ryan teased, poking Jay hard on his bruised arm.

"Ow! Jesus! Are you going with him?" he asked Lisa, who was sitting in the drivers' seat of her car.

"Yeah. Uh, your dad's got your money."

Jay made a face. "Uh… okay. Well… drive safely. And give your parents my best, Ryan." He widened his eyes at Lisa and then quickly threw the car into reverse, pulling backwards into a parking spot.

"Bye!" Zee called, waving back at both of them.

As Jay put the brake on, he looked at his little sister. "That's so fucked up."

"Yeah," she agreed.

Jay started to get out of the car, but Zoey stayed still. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just, can I, uh. Can I talk to you about something on the way home?"

Jay raised his eyebrows a little. "Course. You okay?"

Zoey nodded, a fake smile on her lips. "Let's go in. I'll talk to you after."

* * *

"You know, you were conceived not too far from here," Christina told Nate as they walked side by side.

Nate wrinkled his nose. "I thought you and Dad were living in Huntington."

"Oh, Huntington? No, no. We were there for like a minute when Jay was a little baby, but no. Who told you that?"

Nate shrugged noncommittally. "I don't know. I just thought I knew that." He looked both ways and then started to cross the street.

"No. The Huntington apartment was a dump. We moved up here because I wanted to," she continued proudly," and we had this cute little place on Speedway. It had a little roof deck. I loved it. Did you ever see pictures of it?"

"Maybe. Maybe I have."

"I'll dig them up," she smiled. "Anyway, you were delivered at St. Joseph's because we had to move to North Hollywood when I was eight months pregnant so your dad could train with some Armenian guy, who I think has since passed away. I can't believe you don't know any of this!"

Nate shrugged again. It wasn't like talking to Zoey – yeah, his little sister could listen to herself talk all day, but she at least talked about things Nate knew about. Christina was just giving him facts, slamming a lifetime of history into a single conversation. It didn't matter to him. "Yeah, I just thought it was Huntington for some reason."

As he spoke, Christina stumbled. Nate reflexively reached out a hand, and she grabbed it.

"Well," she said, continuing lightly, "I guess if you wanna be official, you're from the Valley. But to me, you're from Venice."

She wrapped her hands tightly around his bicep, and he instantly became uncomfortable. Zoey was the only one he allowed to hang off his arm or hold his hand, and that was because it made Nate feel strong. He knew when he let her do that, it meant that he was protecting her, that he was being a good big brother, that she was comfortable and safe and happy. But his mother doing it was just… odd. He resisted the urge to squirm away.

* * *

Inside the gym, Alvey was trying to decide whether or not to swallow his medicine. He had hardly taken any of the doses he'd been perscribed. He shook his head and slid the large, white pills back into the bottle. He was putting them into their drawer when there was a quick knock at the door.

Zoey waved through the glass, and he motioned her in.

"Hey, you," he addressed her, standing up to greet her.

"Hey, Dad."

Alvey's mouth fell open. "You talked!" he exclaimed, putting his hands on the sides of her shoulders.

She smiled.

"Good for you, kid," he muttered, embracing her. He kissed the top of her head.

"Yeah, that's not new," Jay informed him, coming in the room behind Zoey. "Lisa said you have my money?"

Alvey pointed at him. "I do," he said. He turned around and showed Jay an envelope. Jay reached for it, but Alvey pulled it away. "How's your hand?"

"It's okay. I'm gonna get it looked at."

"Lisa said you had a great fight."

"Pshh. I don't know about that."

"'I don't know about that,'" Alvey repeated. "Since when are you so fucking humble?"

"Since I started catching people in triangles," he mumbled.

"You fought with a busted hand, you went up a weight class – that's big boy shit. Most of these pros in here wouldn't do that," Alvey said, motioning out the window. "This could be the beginning of something big for you."

Zoey smiled. This kind of talk meant a lot coming from her father.

Alvey made a strange face and then slowly said, "I'm proud of you." It was almost as if he was testing out the words.

Zoey thought she would burst with happiness for Jay, but her brother seemed unfazed. He reached for the envelope again, but Alvey snatched it away a second time.

Jay groaned.

"You're stupid," Alvey laughed, handing it across the desk to him.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically. He shooed Zoey out the door and started to follow.

"Jay," Alvey called.

"What?"

"I need to talk to you about some things. Just you. Shut the door."

Zoey tilted her head in confusion, and Alvey couldn't help but see a snapshot of Nate in his mind wearing exactly the same expression.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Jay murmured to her. He ruffled her hair and then shut the door behind himself.

Alvey dug his fingertips into his eyes. "They caught the fuckers that beat up Nate. And we know what happened to your sister."

"No shit," Jay uttered, baffled on both counts.

"Yeah."

"Well, that's fucking great!"

"Yeah, well… there's. I mean. There's a little more to it than that, though."

"What?" Jay asked.

Alvey only spent a few seconds trying to figure out what to say before he gave up. "You know what? Let's – let's drop your sister off at home and you can buy me a drink."

At Jay's mystified expression, Alvey told him, "You got all the money. Buy me a drink."

* * *

"The point is," Alvey said to Jay half an hour later, "I should have pushed the police to look harder into these two Mexicans, and I didn't. I'm not gonna let these motherfuckers slide, but we can't do anything stupid either. Okay? You understand?"

Jay nodded.

"The cops know about them now. We'll let them handle it. Til they don't."

"Yeah, you're right. I mean, I don't want Nate worrying about what I'm gonna do. Kid needs his peace."

Alvey was giving him a look, so Jay glanced behind himself to see if he was looking at someone else. "What?" he asked.

"I don't know, man," Alvey replied. "It's fucking disturbing when you're so reasonable. I don't trust you."

Jay shrugged. "I don't trust you, either."

"Two more before I tell you about Zo?" Alvey asked.

"Let's do it."

A moment later, the drinks were poured, and Alvey took a deep breath. "Now, this is just like with Nate," Alvey reminded him. "You can't freak the fuck out, and you can't go beating anybody's ass, and you can't take it out on the kid, okay?"

Jay swallowed nervously. "Yeah, okay."

"Okay." Alvey sighed. "So, remember when you took her to the clinic?"

"Yeah."

"She wasn't talking, but Zo somehow communicated with the girl enough to tell her that somebody had… touched her."

"What?!" Jay exploded.

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"Dad, what the fuck!"

"Ay, keep your voice down."

"What the fuck?" Jay repeated more quietly.

"Lisa's the only person she's been talking to about this, unless she's been telling Nate anything."

"Which is likely. They tell each other everything," Jay muttered.

"Well, Lisa got out of her that she knew the guy."

Jay's eyes and voice went dark. "Who was it? I'll fucking murder him, I swear to god. Nobody messes with my little sister."

"She won't say," Alvey sighed. "But there's something weird about it."

"What?"

"I don't know. I can't put my finger on it. The doctor said she stopped talking from trauma. Said that's why she was 'sick' too, that her emotional symptoms were like, physically manifesting."

"So she didn't have mono?"

"No."

Jay mulled that over. "Fuck. No wonder she wouldn't let us touch her."

"Yeah. Once the girl from the clinic explained everything, it all started to line up."

"So what the fuck are we supposed to do?" Jay asked. "I can't afford fucking therapy."

"Kulinas don't need therapy," Alvey boasted.

"Dad, you're in therapy," Jay reminded him flatly. "And she's just a kid. This is a big deal. This kind of shit fucks people up forever. I mean, what the fuck, Dad? What the fuck?"

"Hey," Alvey calmed him. "Drink your vodka. We'll figure it out."

"You know, she said she wanted to talk to me on the way home from the gym. But then you were there, so I think she was too shy to say whatever it was she wanted. I wonder if it was about this." He exhaled heavily. "Anyway, don't you have to get back to the gym?"

"Nah, Joe Daddy's got it under control, Ryan's with Lisa... There's not much going on."

"I saw them leaving earlier," Jay admitted. "They're going to visit Ryan's parents?"

"Mm-hmm, yep."

Jay nodded thoughtfully. "Well. That's gonna be nice and fucked up."

Alvey laughed. "No shit." He stared at his son for a moment. "Let me ask your advice on something."

"I got tons of that to give," Jay grinned.

"Zoey's been all sweet with me lately, and things are better between us. But that's got me thinking – what do I gotta do to fix things with Nate?"

"Give him up for adoption," Jay quipped.

"No, fuck you, I'm asking you for real. I can't get through to him. He won't talk to me. He's all… closed off inside."

"Can you name five things about Nate that don't have to do with fighting?" Jay asked.

Alvey blinked.

Jay started humming the Jeopardy song. At Alvey's continued silence, he lowered the challenge. "How about three things? Can you do three things? One thing?"

"I got it, I got it," Alvey grumbled.

"Do you know his favorite food? His favorite color? You know what shirt he likes to wear?"

Alvey shot him a mean scowl.

"Look. I'm not saying he talks to me either. But I try to listen. And every now and then, he opens up just a fucking crack. You just gotta be interested." Jay took another sip of his drink.

"I'm interested!"

"Well, it's hard to tell sometimes," Jay told him candidly.

"Well, I am. I am."

Jay thought for a moment. "Dad?"

"Hmm."

"You wanna come over for dinner?"

Alvey raised his eyebrows. "When?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Wow, you really must be drunk," Alvey laughed.

"For real, you should come over, cause you should talk to Nate."

* * *

Zoey was by herself in the house again. Alvey had picked Jay, Christina picked Nate, and Zoey was alone. What was going to happen to Zoey if Nate and Jay got close with Christina, but Zoey never did? She was bursting to talk about what had happened, and she was finally ready. Time had gone so slowly, but she wanted – needed – to talk about what Clint Walker did to her. It was only right to tell Jay, but things came up. She tried not to be hurt.

Zoey tried to read, and she thought about going down to the ocean, but the thoughts kept tickling her mind. She couldn't focus. "Shit," she whispered.

She sat on the carpet with her scissors and started slicing her skin apart. She shut her eyes as the cool blood ran down her wrist. She didn't notice the crimson drops falling, staining the white carpet.

* * *

"Do you want pot roast?"

Nate winced at the sudden sting in his arm. Zoey was at it again, whatever "it" was. Nate had a suspicion that made his stomach sink, and after the red on her arm and their talk during Ghostbusters, he was almost certain he was right.

"Jay will want steak," Nate supplied, pushing Zoey out of his thoughts and trying to pay attention to navigating a cart through the crowded aisles of Ralph's.

"Well, what do you want?" Christina asked.

"I'm cool with whatever."

"No, Nate," Christina pushed. "What do you want? What do you like to eat? We've got a whole store here."

Nate shrugged and then, helplessly, he shrugged again.

"Nate, food is not just fuel. It's… you're supposed to enjoy it."

Nate ducked his head.

"So. What do you like?"

"Um, chicken and rice," he stated, telling her the first thing that popped into his head. Truthfully, his favorites were Jay's homemade pizza and Zoey's cinnamon bread, but it felt wrong to imagine someone else cooking the things he'd come to think of as his siblings'.

Christina looked at him sadly.

"What? It's what I like."

"Okay, just leave it to me. I'm going to expand your horizons."

* * *

At home a little while later, Zoey heard Christina and Nate arrive with groceries. She was about to offer to help put them away, but she stopped when she saw Christina running her hands lovingly over Nate's short hair. Nate looked uncomfortable, but Zoey thought it was sweet.

"Hi!" Zoey called, walking into the kitchen when the moment was over.

"Hey," Nate greeted. The two siblings embraced, and Zoey smiled at Christina. "You need help?"

"Nate and I can do it ourselves," Christina replied, her tone a little odd.

"Oh, um. Okay," Zoey answered, trying not to sound too dejected. "Well, I'll be in my room if you need anything."

"We won't," Christina supplied.

"Oh," came Zoey's soft response.

Nate glanced at the doorway at the sudden pang of sadness he felt; he turned just in time to see his little sister's shoulder disappear as she retreated back into her room. He was about to say something about it to Christina when she asked him a question that completely distracted him.

"Soooo, are you going to tell me what the real story is with Tatiana?"

Nate looked back at her shook his head. "There's no story," he lied. "They change therapists."

Christina looked at him knowingly.

"What?"

"You got weird when the doctor brought up her name."

"No, I didn't," Nate denied.

"You did! I saw you! What happened? Did you two have a thing?"

This was it – this was his chance to have a mom. "Uh… yeah, we did," he admitted.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, prompting him to continue.

"We hung out."

"Were you sleeping together?" she asked.

Nate turned around, shocked. Even Zoey didn't fish for shit like that.

"Don't be embarrassed, I'm just asking," Christina breezily said.

"Yeah, she's cool," Nate muttered. "It didn't work. We're different."

"Is she pretty?"

"Yeah, she's like… exotic and, like, dark hair. I don't know."

Christina smiled. "Were you attracted to her?"

"Really, are we…?" Nate asked, a little annoyed by the endless line of questioning. And Nate had thought Jay was pushy.

"I'm just trying to figure out what went wrong. I can't tell if you're upset or not," she said, her hand on his arm again.

That time he did move away. He wasn't an expressive guy, but Zoey and Jay could always easily read his emotions. He needed that, and he didn't want to have to train someone else to understand him too. He wasn't sure he wanted anyone else to understand him at all, at least for the time being.

"Well, there will be another one," Christina mused.

* * *

Alvey's phone buzzed.

6:44 PM

J: Bring wine. The good shit. $$$

Alvey shot back, Fuck you.

Twenty minutes later, he was knocking on the kids' door. When Jay opened it, Alvey immediately felt underdressed – Jay was clad in a buttery yellow button-down and a pair of faded dress pants that looked a little too large for him.

"Hey," Jay grinned, saluting his father.

"What the fuck are you so dressed up for?" Alvey asked.

"It's supper time, Pops. Come on in."

"You look nice," Alvey commented. It was true, even though Jay was still sporting more than a few scabs on his face.

"Hey, baby," Alvey greeted Zoey, kissing the side of her head. She clung tightly to him when he hugged her, his leather jacket warm under her cheek. "You okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded, but she didn't make eye contact. She slowly let go.

"Anyways, dinner's almost ready," Jay announced, leading Alvey into the kitchen.

"It smells fucking great in here," Alvey observed.

"Yeah, it's gonna be delicious. Dad, you remember Mom, right?"

Alvey slowly stopped walking, staring at his estranged wife.

"Hi, Alvey," she greeted.

When her voice reached his ears, it felt like she'd never been gone at all. Oh, he could strangle Jay.

Nate was staring apologetically at Alvey, nursing a beer as he leaned against the counter.

"Well, look at us!" Jay smiled widely, as though everything had fallen into place. "Who's hungry?"

* * *

Zoey was so uncomfortable at the thought of sitting at dinner with her entire "family" that she dragged Nate outside with her to sit down at the picnic table and wait. She took Jay's normal seat and placed Nate in her usual seat. That way, the closest Zoey could be to Christina was across the table.

Christina set her plate down on Nate's other side, so Alvey, naturally, sat across from Zoey. Jay filled in the final seat next to his father. After an awkward minute or two of just forks and knives scraping against plates, Jay finally came up with something to say.

"So, Nate – I understand you have a new physical therapist?"

"Diego," Christina supplied. "He's very nice. A little uptight"

"How does she know?" Alvey asked Nate softly.

"I met him," Christina answered. She shrugged sassily at Alvey.

"You took her to your therapist?" Alvey inquired.

Nate looked at him with unreadable eyes. "Yeah, she wanted to come."

Jay and Christina smiled lovingly at each other across the table. Zoey stared down at her lap, willing the meal to be over as Alvey started laughing to himself. Nate put his head in one of his hands and subconsciously let his other arm rest against Zoey's. She pressed closer in response.

"This is fucking stupid. This is ridiculous," Alvey spat through his laughter. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure," Christina replied defiantly, sitting up straighter. "Let's talk."

Alvey raised his eyebrows. "Inside," he whispered.

Christina faked a smile. "No problem."

Alvey followed her inside, leaving the kids alone at the table.

"Jay, what the fuck?" Zoey snapped when her parents were out of earshot. "Are you insane? Was Mom not enough of a goddamn project for you?"

"I'm just trying to have a fucking dinner with our family-"

"She's not my family! You are my family! Nate and you, and that's it! Sometimes Dad, and sometimes Lisa. Not that woman in there, and certainly not "Mom" and Dad together! Why are you doing this to us? Why are you doing this to Dad?! You had to have known that nothing good could come from this! Jay, we didn't ask for this!" she exclaimed angrily.

"Whoa. Zee-"

She stood up. "I just don't understand why it's not enough for you. I'm trying to be enough for you. I got my voice back, and Nate won his fight, and we do the dishes every night, and we cook, and we keep our fucking bedrooms clean, so what more do you need?! I can't fucking keep up anymore! You're overdosing and firing guns and provoking fights with pimps and running a makeshift fucking drug rehab out of the house, and I'm trying hard as hell to keep my shit together so no one finds out about what happened to me! And you-"

Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

"You're supposed to take care of us! You said you'd always be there for me, that I could always come to you no matter what. But know what? That was a fucking lie, Jay. I needed you, but I couldn't tell you a fucking thing. I was too worried about you and what you were doing. Jay, I needed you! You chose Mom over me all last week, and today you chose Dad even after you promised we'd talk in the car." She was crying a little then.

"Fuck it," she declared, smearing her tears away. "Fuck all of this. I'm not fucking doing this. If you don't want me anymore, that's fine. That's fucking fine. I'm leaving." She pushed away from the table and jogged toward the house.

"Zoey, what the fuck?" Jay asked, standing up and watching her climb through her bedroom window.

Nate shot Jay a look.

"Are you going after her?" Jay asked him.

"I don't wanna get fucking punched," Nate mumbled, "so no. But she's right."

"What? Nate, no…"

"You're not the same. I don't know why you wanted to piss Dad off so bad, but congratulations – you did it."

A moment passed, and Zoey was climbing back out through her window with a tote bag slung over her shoulder.

"Zee, don't leave," Jay pled. He chased after her and grabbed her elbow.

"Don't fucking touch me," she hissed, ripping her arm away. "They're fighting inside and it's your fault."

Just then, Dad stormed out of the house. "Fuck you," he said to Jay.

Zoey nodded in agreement.

"What?" Jay asked.

"'What?'" Alvey echoed, chuckling darkly in enraged disbelief. "Fuck you," he repeated.

"Hey, Pops!" Jay scrambled across the yard after his father. "Oh, you know, I'm sorry, Pops. I thought you wanted to be a family."

Zoey appeared behind Jay and drifted slowly toward her father.

"You fucking ambushed me."

"No, I invited you to dinner."

"I don't know what you're trying to do here, son, but you're doing it the wrong way."

"I'm just trying to show you how this is! This is our family!"

"There is your problem," Alvey told him. "This is how you think it is. This isn't 'our' fucking family. You're fucking detached from reality."

"I'm detached from reality? Fucking Pops, you're like a teenager who's angry at the fucking world. I spent all day at the bar listening to you talking about what?"

"My son. My son. Not my fucking ex-wife."

"No, your fucking self! 'How can you help me fix my son?' You don't give a fuck about your son. You don't give a fuck about this family."

Alvey rolled his eyes and climbed onto his motorcycle.

"You're fucking lonely," Jay observed.

"I'm fucking lonely?"

"Yeah."

"You're fucking blind. There's so much shit going on that you can't even see it," Alvey told him.

"Okay. Alright, well, we're going to go back and sit down and finish dinner. Mom made a great pot roast. You're welcome to join us. Zee, come on."

"No."

"What?"

"Jay, I said no," she repeated sharply. "Dad?" she asked.

"What?" Alvey snapped.

"Can I go home with you?"

"Zoey," Jay warned.

When Alvey saw that it pissed Jay off, of course he said yes to his daughter. "Get on."

"Zee, are you fucking kidding me right now?"

She flipped Jay off and held on to Alvey as he revved the engine and sped away.


	18. Chapter 18

Lisa made breakfast the next morning before she and Alvey headed to the gym. Zoey was downstairs in the shorts and tank top she'd slept in. She'd put on a pair of fuzzy pastel purple socks and then taken a seat at the bar next to her father.

"Hey, so – why'd you come with me last night?" Alvey asked her between bites of scrambled eggs. "I heard you yelling at your brother."

Zoey shrugged.

"He's a fucking idiot," Alvey continued.

"No, he's not," Zoey countered, but she didn't get angry like she usually did. Lisa passed her a steaming hot waffle. "Thanks," she murmured. "He's not an idiot, but he _is_ being pretty stupid right now, I'll give you that."

"Well, what the fuck happened?" Lisa asked. "I mean, I got that your mom was over there, but..."

"Yeah, and that's just it. Nate and I didn't even know he knew where she was until she was already in the house. Trust me, he's not happy about this either."

"Nate?" Alvey asked.

"Yeah. He's just putting up with it because Jay wants us to."

"But you're not," Lisa stated. "Why?"

"Yeah, you side with your brothers on everything," Alvey added.

"That's not true," Zoey muttered. "And I don't know. It doesn't matter."

"Was she not what you were expecting?" Alvey asked.

Zoey shrugged. "Not really." She cast her eyes down at the counter and toyed with her fork. "I don't think she's very interested in me. But she really loves Jay, and she spent all day with Nate yesterday… I don't know. I didn't even want her to like me, so I don't know why I'm upset."

Lisa walked up to her and squeezed her shoulder. "Hey, I'm sorry."

Zoey nodded at her.

"Yeah, me, too," Alvey said.

Zoey looked over at him, surprised.

"What?" he asked. "Just cause she and I don't get along doesn't mean you don't deserve to have a mother."

Zoey blinked quickly and looked away.

"Zee?" Lisa asked.

"I'll be right back," Zoey told them, excusing herself and working hard to keep her composure until she locked the bathroom door behind her. She breathed shakily into her hand in an effort to mask the sound. Why her father's words hit her so hard, she didn't know, but they did.

A few seconds later, there was a firm knock at the door. "Zo?" came Alvey's voice.

Zoey was a little surprised – usually Lisa was the one that tackled damage control. "Go away."

"No. Come out here."

"Dad, go away! I don't want to talk right now."

"Well, too bad – we're talking," he declared. He sighed. "Look, about dinner last night…"

"It's not about dinner. I left with you, didn't I?"

"Then what's it about? Huh? Baby, come out here."

He sounded like he really wanted to know what was wrong. Zoey was aching for someone, anyone, to care about what she was feeling. And maybe he did, at least for now, even if Jay didn't. It was tempting.

"Talk to me, sweetheart. Come on."

Zoey leaned her forehead against the door. "I don't know what to say," she admitted.

"Well, just tell me what you're thinking. Let me in, okay? Please." He lightly jiggled the doorknob, but stopped once he realized it was locked. "Zoey, come on, honey. Talk to Daddy."

Zoey let out a shaky sigh. "I just – I don't know. I always wanted a mom cause everybody else had one and it looked fun. But it wasn't what I thought. I wanted her to care about me, you know? Cause Jay always said that's what moms are supposed to do. They care about you and they love you and they're nice. But she doesn't like me, and you don't like me, and now Jay's gonna forget about me because he has her. I was the only girl, and now there's this lady in the house, and she's all he cares about." She took a breath. "And I know I don't talk about it, but after what happened to me, I really – I just need somebody on my side. And I yelled at Jay, so he's never gonna want me, and now you probably think I'm stupid-"

"You're _not_ stupid," Alvey interrupted. "And of course I like you. Come out here, okay?"

"No."

"Please. I just want to talk to you, but I can't do that through a fucking door. Come on, sweetheart."

Zoey was quiet. Alvey pressed his ear against the door, listening. Time ticked slowly by, and then Zoey unlocked the door. Alvey's stomach turned when he saw the sadness in her eyes. "Come here," he ordered, motioning her towards him.

She went easily into his arms, clinging to his shirt and resting against his chest.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out," he told her.

"Jay thinks it's like a dream, but it's not. It's _his_ dream, but it's not real."

"I know."

"I just want things to go back to the way they were. I want... I want to erase the summer and start over."

"I know, sweetheart," Alvey repeated.

"It won't stay bad forever," Lisa said. She was leaning against the wall a few feet away. Zoey hadn't even know she was there. "And you have us. And Nate. And it may not feel like it right now, but Jay loves you more than anything. I promise. Okay?"

Zoey nodded, but she wasn't convinced.

"It's gonna be just fine," Alvey murmured. "You're gonna be okay."

* * *

"Ahhh, shit," Nate groaned. He let the drill hang by his side.

"What happened?" Christina asked.

"Hey, is it stripped?" Jay asked.

"Yeah."

"Let me see." Jay stopped his bench dips and jogged over to take a look.

"Well, what does that mean? They're stuck?" Christina asked frantically.

"Why don't we just leave them up?" Nate suggested, motioning to the bars. "I thought the world was full of nihilists."

"I don't know where you got that idea," Christina said forcefully, "but these are ugly, and I want them gone."

"No, we'll take care of them, Mom. We'll get them down," Jay assured.

"Not if the screws are stripped!"

"I know. We'll figure it out."

"No, it has to happen today, Jay! You promised!" she yelled shrilly.

"It's fine," he told her. "Hey, we're gonna take them off."

"Dammit, you can't get them off, Jay! I don't know how you're going to do it!" she exploded. Her hands were shaking.

Jay's eyes widened. "We're gonna figure it out, Mom. We're-"

"You can't do it!" she shouted as she stormed off.

Nate looked at Jay with wide eyes.

Like he would with Zoey, Jay gave Christina a few minutes to cry it out before he went in to check on her. "Hey," he murmured. He handed her a few squares of toilet paper so she could wipe her eyes.

"Nate must think I'm nuts," she moaned.

"No. He's worried about you," Jay told her. "So am I." He wasn't quite sure what Nate actually thought, but the words seemed like what she needed to hear.

"Don't be," she said, sitting up. "I'm an emotional person, as you may have noticed. And now that I'm clean, my moods are dialed up to, like, eleven. There's gonna be some crying."

"Yeah, maybe the crying is good for you."

"It is." She looked down and quietly said, "I know what you did for me."

"Mom…"

"No one's ever cared about me enough to do that. You could have easily have left me like everyone else."

"But I didn't," Jay reminded. "And you're here now."

"I am." She glanced at the window and then remembered, "And I want those bars gone today."

"Well, I'm gonna rip them off with my fucking teeth," Jay joked.

She laughed and pressed her forehead to his.

Jay's insides flooded with warmth. This was everything he'd ever wanted. His mom was here, and she loved him just like he knew she would. "They're coming off," he promised.

"Let's do something," Christina said suddenly, sitting up and walking across the room.

"Okay. Like what?"

"I don't know, um… Ooh! Let's go shopping!"

"Shopping?"

"Let's buy some clothes! I wanna burn all this shit," she said, lumping all her clothes into a pile on the floor. "And we'll get some stuff for this house so it won't be so bleak."

Jay quickly got to his feet, jogging to catch up to her. "Mom! This house is not bleak. It's a very inspiring home."

"It's bleak!" she argued. "We need some pretty. I don't know how your sister lives here."

"Well, she's not much of a girly-girl," Jay told her.

"Really?" Christina said, turning around.

"Really really. But Mom… I don't have a lot of money."

"But you have a little," she smiled. "And I have a little. Come on! You, me, and Nate… You guys can take off one day of jumping jacks for your mother!"

"Oh, jumping jacks? Is that what we do?" Jay laughed. "Mama wants a brand new bag, Mama's getting a shopping spree! Okay." He clapped enthusiastically. "Come on! We'll get Zee, and we'll go."

Christina's face fell. "Zoey?"

"Yeah! You can't go thrifting without Little Zee. She always finds the best stuff." Jay gave her a grin. "Let's go!"

* * *

Zoey pulled the sliding glass door open for Nate, who was standing there his gray 025 shirt. She hated that thing.

"Hey," she said, but it was a question, not a greeting.

"Hey."

Zoey backed up as if to let him in.

"Uh, actually – Jay's in the car out front with Mom. They want us to all go shopping."

"Shopping?" Zoey echoed, eyebrows arching.

"Yeah. It's kind of weird, I know, but Jay wanted you to come, and he said you're probably still mad at him, so he wanted me to ask."

"Oh, um. Yeah, I am. I'm gonna pass," she smiled, "but thanks for stopping by."

"Yeah. Hey, I'll get you a prom dress," Nate joked.

"Don't you fucking dare. You have terrible taste," she told him, pulling him into a hug.

"No, that's you."

"Shut up," she laughed, shoving his shoulder.

"See ya."

"Bye, Nate."

Nate walked back down to Jay's truck and climbed in the passenger door.

"Is she coming?" Jay asked hopefully.

"Nah," Nate replied casually.

"Oh, why not?" Christina asked. She didn't sound put out – just curious.

Nate shrugged. "She didn't say."

* * *

"Nate!" Jay announced after they'd been in the store for a bit. "I'm rethinking everything. The whole wardrobe. No more t-shirts. Ever. I'm suits from now on. I don't care if it's a hundred fucking degrees out." He set down a box he was carrying and opened it up to reveal a record player. "And I listen to vinyl."

Nate ignored him and continued shifting through a plate display he was inspecting.

"Look at this," Jay directed, holding his arms out and spinning around.

"That's a terrible suit," Nate told him. It made Jay look like a tall grape.

"You're gonna get used to it," Jay grinned. "What are you doing, huh? Are you looking at plates?"

"Yeah. What the fuck is this?" Nate asked, holding one up with a renaissance-y drawing of two chubby little kids playing musical instruments.

"There's a whole store here, Nate," Jay chuckled.

"What do you think?" Christina called.

The boys walked over to where her voice had come from to see their mother clad in a lacy, peach dress.

"Wooooow! It's great. I love it," Jay observed.

"Not too shabby, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's really nice," Nate replied.

"I'll take what I can get," she responded breezily. "I love this suit," she said, walking up to Jay and tugging on the lapels.

Jay shot Nate a proud glance.

"Did you find something?" Christina asked Nate.

"Nah, I'm good."

"Aw, you have to!" Christina begged.

"Yeah, you gotta buy something," Jay told him.

"I don't – I don't like wearing other people's clothes," he muttered. He also knew Jay didn't have the money to be doing this. They had bills due in less than a week.

"Well, we're going to wash them," Christina assured him. She looked at Jay and then back at Nate. "Go. You have to find something. We're not leaving here until you do."

"Maybe some plates, there are some plates over there."

Nate rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile at his brother.

"You come here," Christina insisted, pulling Jay away. "I want to show you more."

The bell dinged on the shop door, and Nate glanced toward it. Was that-?

"Zebra?" he asked.

"Hey," she replied. "Ooh, it's chilly in here." She tugged her hoodie tighter around herself.

"What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming."

She shrugged. "I got bored. What are you up to? And where's Norman Bates?"

Nate smacked her upside the head. "Come on. Mom said I had to pick something before we left."

Zoey looked up at him. "She said that?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

Zoey shrugged. "It just sounds like a mom thing to say."

"She's not that bad. Come on," Nate said. Without thinking, he grabbed her by the wrist to lead her towards a display of books, but she winced and quickly flinched away. "Oh, sorry," Nate apologized quickly.

"It's fine," she answered breathlessly, rubbing hard at the inside of her forearm. "Let's just go."

Nate could feel her mortification, and Zoey could feel his worry.

"I'm fine," she told him, but her cheeks were pink, and she couldn't look at him anymore.

"Okay."

He distracted her by removing a pair of Kim Kardashian-style sunglasses from a rack and sliding them onto her face.

She shook her head, knowing how ridiculous she must look.

"Where's Kanye?" Nate joked.

Zoey rolled her eyes and pushed the glasses onto her head. "How about you, huh? You wanna be a Top Gun pilot?" She put a pair of aviators on him, and he saluted.

"Here," she said, tapping the Kim K shades so they fell from the crown of her head down onto her nose. She pulled out her phone and they snapped a few silly selfies. As they were putting the glasses back on the rack, a smooth voice interrupted them.

"Oh please, you've got to be kidding me. Hello, Nate?"

Zoey and Nate both turned to see a tan guy in a gray beanie and black hipster glasses staring at them. "Hi," Nate replied shortly. Zoey couldn't tell if Nate knew the guy or not.

"It's Jacob," the guy smiled, tilting his glasses up so Nate could recognize him. He was taller than Nate, and he looked sweet. Zoey smiled just looking at him. "Oh my god, blast from the past. I didn't think I'd ever see you again! How are you?" The guy ran his fingers over Nate's abs, and Zoey raised her eyebrows.

"I'm good, thanks," Nate muttered, eyes flitting anywhere but at the guy.

"I'm good, too," the guy supplied slowly, looking dejected. "Thanks for asking."

"Hey, Nate, we're on the move," Jay called. "Zee, hey! Salutations, little monkey!"

 _Saved by the bell_ , Nate thought. He quickly walked out of the store.

"Who was that guy?" Jay asked.

"Just some dude from high school."

"Hipsters, huh?" Jay asked, over-enunciating. "Stealin' clothes from the poor."

"He was _so cute,"_ Zoey told Nate, hopping a little every few steps to keep up with him.

Nate ignored her. He wanted to get the hell away from that guy.

"What?" she asked, nudging his arm.

"He's way too old for you," he bit back.

She shook her hair out in the warm sun. "So? He's still cute. Sooo cute. Like, dreamy. _Jacob._ "

"Zoey, stop it."

Suddenly, there was a squeal of tires and the harsh sound of a long car horn. Christina had walked out right in front of a blue Mazda that was speeding through the parking lot.

Something inside Nate snapped, and he flew over to the driver's side of the car. The window was down, so Nate reached in and dragged the guy out of it by the collar. "You almost hit her," he growled through gritted teeth. He slammed the guy against the door. "Get in the fucking car!"

"I'm trying," the guy whimpered.

Jay was totally calm as he peeled his sunglasses off and headed to diffuse the situation.

"Get in the fucking car!" Nate repeated.

"Hey, hey, hey, Nate," Jay murmured, pulling his brother back a few steps. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. It was an accident. Nobody got hurt, right?"

Nate was fuming.

Christina watched wide-eyed with worry as Jay got the guy back into his car. Zoey's heart was pounding. She instinctively dug her nails into her wrist, but Nate's eyes snapped toward her, and she quickly let go.

"You don't have to honk the horn that long, you know?" Jay pointed out. "You know, it's grating. You just tap it. A little bit goes a long way, right?"

"You alright?" Jay asked Nate again. "Zee, you okay? See, everybody's alright. We're fine. Come on, Mom. Let's go. We're goin' home. Come on. Alright."

Zoey broke off from the group and started jogging in the direction of the ocean's distant roar. Her flip-flops slapped against the pavement as she went.

Nate stood stock still, staring furiously after the blue car. He wasn't worried about his mom nearly getting hit, though; he was worried about nearly getting outed in front of his family.

* * *

It was several hours before everyone came back together; Zoey had been MIA beachside all afternoon, and Jay finally drove down to get her. He found her by the pier. Zoey hadn't apologized for the night before, and Jay hadn't brought up what Alvey had told him. It was a silent ride home.

Nate had calmed down considerably, but he was still on alert in both body and mind. Yeah, he saw a couple of guys in high school, and things with Jacob had been… intense. They'd mostly just messed around behind the batting cages during lunch break, rough kisses and a few hand jobs. But then Jacob had wanted take things to the next level over the summer and be boyfriends, and Nate had to draw the line. Even though Nate initiated the breakup, it had still stung. He'd liked Jacob more than he had initially realized.

Closeted wasn't a strong enough description for the situation. It was more like Nate was chained up in the trunk of a car that was sinking in the ocean. That's the level of security he needed, and that's the level of protection he was going to stick with. No one could find about his secret. Ever.

Nate chose the seat next to Zoey, leaving room for Christina and Jay to sit across the table. Jay took his usual place across from Nate, but instead of Christina sitting across from Zoey, she pulled up a chair and sat at the head of the table.

"Dinner is served," Christina announced, starting to spoon mashed potatoes onto her plate.

"Should we pray before we eat?" Jay asked hesitantly. "I don't know."

 _Leave it to Jay to paint this awkward dinner into an obnoxious portrait of a perfect family_ , Zoey thought.

"Eh. God is within us," Christina replied. "Let's eat."

"What does that mean, God is within us?" Nate asked.

"Nothing," Christina said defensively. "I'm sorry, do you want to pray?" she asked the table.

"Are we not Catholic?" Nate inquired.

Jay eyed Nate suspiciously.

"I've never been Catholic," Christina answered.

Nate shook his head. "Dad is."

"Um…" Jay muttered slowly.

Nate looked at Zoey, who shrugged.

Jay rolled his eyes at them and took over the conversation. "I got a message from Lisa – good news. Looks like I got another fight," Jay smiled.

"Lisa… Your dad's Lisa?" Christina asked.

"Yeah. She's uh. She's like. Managing me," Jay explained carefully. "We haven't quite figured it out yet. But, I mean, I'm getting back in the cage, and that's what really matters, right Nate?"

"Well, what's she like anyway?" Christina pressed.

Jay sighed and looked down, trying to figure out what to say. He was thinking his fight was a safe topic, but of course, he'd completely forgotten the fact that Lisa was now an extension of his father. They'd been together for years now; it didn't even cross Jay's mind.

"Oh, don't be weird about it."

"I'm not being weird, I'm-" he laughed uncomfortably.

"I've been out of circulation. There are things I need to know, things I need to get used to… I didn't even know Nate was such a Catholic."

"I'm not," he said shortly at the same time Zoey said, "He's not."

Christina blinked. "I'm kidding!" She waved her hands uncomfortably.

Zoey almost rolled her eyes. Jay was working to keep the conversation from turning sour, and Christina kept ruining his efforts. It was almost as though she was doing it intentionally.

"Come on, relax you guys. Here. Let's have a toast."

Nate and Zoey reluctantly held up beer bottles, and Christina and Jay held up their wine glasses.

"To family dinners," Christina announced. "We should do this twice a week."

"Yes," Jay agreed.

Nate inwardly groaned.

* * *

A little later, Jay was blaring his new record player. He and Christina were swing dancing around the living room, ignoring Nate – who had gotten there first! – trying to play video games around them.

They were laughing and pouring wine, and Nate asked, "Should you be drinking?"

"For me, it's not so much the wine as it is the heroin," she drawled.

Nate scoffed in a combination of shock and annoyance.

"Come on. Come dance," Christina insisted, tugging on his hands.

"No, thanks."

Jay shut off the record. "Join the party, Nate," he ordered. Christina chose another record, and Jay went to knock on Zoey's door. "Zee! Come out here a minute."

"Why?" came the reply through the door.

"Cause I said so. Come on."

There was a sigh and some shuffling, and then the littlest Kulina made an appearance. It was barely nine o'clock, but she'd already showered and changed into her pajamas.

The next record started up slowly, and Christina looked over at Zoey with daggers in her eyes. Zoey blinked, surprised – she'd half thought that her mind was just making up her mother's aversion to her. But even Nate had caught the glance that time and was staring at Christina.

"Come on, Monkey. Show me what you got," Jay said.

"Why are they always calling you animal names?" Christina asked her a little rudely.

"Halloween," Nate cut in protectively. "She was a new baby and Dad dressed her up as a Zebra. You weren't there."

"Nate," Jay warned.

"I was like three, and I was confused because Jay and me called her Zee, and then I just added the second syllable on as part of her name. No one corrected me. It wasn't til I was like six that I figured out it was wrong. And by then, I just stuck with it."

"Hmm," Christina replied, taking Nate's hands and swinging them back and forth.

"And Jay, what about you, baby? Why do you call her Monkey?"

"Ah, I call them both that sometimes. Just a thing that happened when I was…" He stopped himself. _Playing Mom and Dad,_ he was going to say.

"When you were what?"

"Being a big brother," he finished.

"I see." She turned to Nate and Zoey. "You never learned to dance at all, did you?"

Zoey shook her head.

"Come on," Christina said, reaching for Nate again. "I'm gonna teach you to waltz."

Zoey awkwardly went to the couch and watched as Nate and their mother stepped in time across the spot where Clint had fucked into her. She dug her nails into her palm. Nate didn't seem to pick up on it.

"You look great," Jay smiled at Nate.

Nate rolled his eyes and flipped him off behind Christina's back.

"Madame," Jay said, holding his hands out to Zoey. "May I have this dance?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm fucking mad at you," she told him.

"Oh, of course, my lady. But won't you give this poor soldier a dance?" He kissed her hand. "Dance with your big brother, hmm?"

She sighed. "Fine. One song." She always fell for the big brother card.

Jay put a hand on her hip and reached for her fingers. Her other hand went easily to the right place on his arm. Christina didn't fail to notice.

Jay counted quietly as he stepped with his sister; she was a natural just like he was. She stumbled a few times, but once Jay got her to let him lead, it was like they were walking on air. Pretty soon, Jay was teaching her how to dip and turn, and Zoey was starting to loosen up.

A new song started, and Jay expected her to let go of him and disappear back into her room, but she didn't. Instead, she let him rock her from foot to foot, and she laid her head on his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head and pulled their hands in close.

"I'm still mad at you," she murmured. "I meant everything I said, and I'm not sorry."

Jay nodded. "Okay. That's fair, I guess." His voice rumbled under her ear. "Look, Zee… Dad told me what happened to you."

That did get her to pull away from him.

"He doesn't know shit," she said angrily, but her eyes betrayed her pain.

"Really? Because he told me a lot."

Nate was still with Christina across the room. He was looking over, but she seemed not to have noticed anything going on.

"You were right last night," Jay continued. "I haven't been here for you because I've been a little busy with other stuff. But that doesn't mean that I'm not here now."

"You're _not_ here now."

"Yes, I am."

"No. No. This isn't you. You throw impromptu house parties on school nights and get drunk as fuck for fun. Not this – not dancing around the living room in a suit. This isn't you, this is your twisted up dream world. But guess what? The rest of us? It's not our dream, Jay! Nate wants to train in peace. Dad wants to be with Lisa. And I just want to forget about everything that happened."

"You can't just bury shit like that, Zoey," Jay told her. "It's gonna fucking eat you alive."

"Then _let it!"_ she cried desperately. "What makes you think I want to be here anymore? I fucking don't."

"Zoey, what the hell are you talking about?" Jay asked.

"Well, you think you know everything, so why don't you tell me? Huh? Cause nobody knows what happened, not really. And I've been trying not to fucking crack all week, and I'm so close it's like I can't even breathe, and then you bring _her_ into this mess – this fucking _whore_ –"

"Zoey!" Jay scolded, but Zoey wasn't done.

"-and you fuck up _everything!_ Everything, Jay! We were a _family._ We were all _best friends._ Everything was fine! And now that's all ruined because of her. Because of _you."_

"Zee, listen to me," Jay interrupted aggressively, but for once, his authority had no effect on her.

"No! No. I won't listen to you. I'm fucking done with you. I hate you!"

Zoey stormed into her room and slammed her door shut. Jay heard the lock slot angrily into place.

Nate moved across the room to turn the record player off. Christina stood still.

"Mom, I am _so_ sorry about that," Jay said, eyes wide in desperate sincerity. "I'm sure she didn't mean any of that. She's just. She's going through a lot right now, and –"

"Oh, it's fine," Christina responded a little louder than necessary. "I never wanted her anyway."

Nate sucked in a quiet breath, livid.

Jay nodded slowly, taking in the new information. "Okay," he whispered. "Uh, Nate? You wanna go check on your sister in a bit? I'm gonna go for a walk. I'll be back in less than an hour."

"She doesn't hate you," Nate told him.

"I know," Jay sighed. He kissed Nate on the temple and then stalked across to the kitchen, pocketed his keys, and softly closed the door behind himself.

Nate looked tiredly around the living room and started to clean up.

"Well, goodnight, Nate," Christina said airily, disappearing into Jay's room.

Her middle child didn't answer. He finished moving the furniture back into place and then went into the kitchen for a green sticky note. "Sleep in my room. Love you," he wrote and stuck the note to the cooler. Jay never came home from a walk without getting something to drink.

Nate locked the front door as best he could behind his big brother and then went to Zoey's room. He knocked on her door, sure to be soft. "Hey, can I come in?"

Zoey unlocked the door to let Nate in and went back to lie down under her covers again. Nate sat down on the floor so they were at the same eye level.

"I heard what she said," Zoey muttered.

Nate shook his head. "That was a bitchy thing to say."

Zoey shrugged. "I'm sure it's true. The way she wants nothing to do with me, and the way Dad used to be… I always kind of thought I was an accident. Now I know."

"Zoey…"

"It's okay. I've been wondering for a couple years now. I was always just afraid to ask."

"Well, Jay and I are really glad we have you. Promise." He sighed. "I definitely lost any respect for her I had when she said that," Nate told his sister. "She's an adult. And not like me – she's been an adult for a long time. They're not supposed to say things like that to kids."

"I deserved it. I called her a whore. I was awful."

"You didn't deserve it," he replied, his voice firm.

"Yes, I did," she whispered. "I really, really did. Especially after what I said to Jay." Her voice wobbled.

"No, don't cry," Nate muttered, reaching his hand up to rest on her forehead. "Don't cry. He knows."

Her fingers closed around his wrist as she calmed herself down.

There was a moment of quiet. Then he said, "Sorry I hurt your arm at the store today."

Zoey was silent.

"I want you to know… I know what you do to yourself. And you don't have to do it."

Zoey let go of Nate and turned over so her back was to him. He continued anyway.

"I… I don't know what you're supposed to say to someone who does what you're doing, but… I want you to know that I'm here, okay? And. I love you."

"You don't hate me?" she asked timidly.

"Of course I don't hate you," he assured her. "I just don't want you to do it anymore." Nate moved up to sit on her bed. He kicked his gray tennis shoes off and joined her beneath the blankets. It was still several hours until he typically went to bed, but it had been quite a long day.

She was still for several minutes, and he was pretty sure that she was falling asleep.

"I'm gonna turn the light off, okay?" he asked softly.

"Okay."

Nate pulled the cord, and the room was swallowed in darkness. Zoey reached behind herself and felt around until she found Nate's hand. She wrapped her fingers around his.

"Promise you're not mad?" she asked.

"I promise. Go to sleep, okay?"

"It'll be better in the morning," Zoey recited. That's what Jay used to tell them when shit went down with Dad.

"Right. It'll be better in the morning," Nate repeated.

Zoey sighed and let go of Nate's hand, getting comfortable in the blankets. "I hope so."


	19. Chapter 19

"Aw, big brother's asleep? Guess it's just you and me, sugar," Clint Walker hissed into Zoey's ear. His breath was hot against her cheek as she started quietly sobbing. "Now this is what I'm talking about," he leered. "You're even prettier when you cry."

Zoey jolted awake to Nate's concerned eyes over her. She hurried to sit up and reorient herself as Nate flipped on her lamp. "You okay?"

"It's fine, I'm fine," she answered breathlessly, rapidly brushing her hair out of her face.

"You don't look so good," Nate admitted nervously. His sister was trembling and pale.

"I'm fine," she repeated. "Nate, I'm fine." Her voice shook almost as hard as her hands. She wordlessly pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on her elbows. She was so sick of these dreams.

"You want me to get Jay?" Nate checked.

She shook her head. "No, no, I'm okay."

He called her out even though he would usually let her get away with the lie. "You're not okay. I can feel it."

"I'm fine," she insisted, but her big brother could see right through her.

Nate leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. She grabbed onto his shoulder and let her shaky breaths come in and out. She closed her eyes and let herself be comforted.

After a moment, Nate talked her into lying back down. Pretty soon, Zoey gave up on actually getting some rest and decided to feign sleep. She pretended not to hear as Nate crept out of her room. As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

* * *

Nate woke up planning to go to Navy Street before remembering what had happened to his knee. He brushed off the crushed feeling inside his chest and tried to distract himself. He wandered into the kitchen and found Christina brewing a pot of coffee. "Hey," he greeted awkwardly. (It seemed worse not to speak.)

"Hi, sweetie," Christina replied. She reached out and rubbed the side of Nate's head. He leaned away from her, and she pretended not to notice. "Do you want me to make you some food? Eggs or toast or something?"

"Uh, no, that's okay. I can do it."

"Okay," Christina replied, a tinge of coldness in her tone.

Nate rolled his eyes to himself and went to grab a carton of yogurt from the cooler. He evaluated his options for a moment before choosing strawberries from the fridge and grabbing a banana off the kitchen counter. Christina was staring at him intently as he sliced the fruit, and he ignored her. Nothing good was going to happen if he opened his mouth to give her a piece of his mind about what she'd said in front of Zee. Nate couldn't believe he'd defended this woman to his father. Jay had always resented Alvey for it, but now Nate could see why Alvey had let Christina get away so easily.

Nate dug some ice cubes out of the cooler and poured the yogurt into the blender. He was shaking the pieces of fruit off the cutting board when the front door slammed open. Nate wondered if Jay was coming home drunk, but he knew he was wrong when a burst of Spanish flooded the air. Nate would know those voices anywhere.

Christina started babbling in fear, desperately asking Nate what was going on, but Nate's focus was on the rapid foreign language. He couldn't understand everything they were saying, but he definitely caught, "where are you, bitch?" and the word "fuck" along with pinta, the Mexican slang word for prison. Nate gritted his teeth and swallowed, trying to prepare himself for whatever the hell was coming.

The two guys rounded the corner, and Nate was surprised to see that they were actually smaller than he remembered. He was still intimidated, though, and he immediately worried for his family. Detective Gaines warned him that the guys in Venice 13 often took out loved ones as punishment for people snitching. Nate wasn't even the one that had turned them in, though – it had been Alvey. But they couldn't know that. Jay was probably around somewhere, and Zoey was in her room sleeping right that very moment. If those guys tried to hurt his siblings… Nate narrowed his eyes and stood up straighter. He unconsciously flexed his biceps.

The shorter one drew a gun, Nate calmly lifted his hands. "I'm not pressing charges," he muttered.

"It don't matter," the bigger one murmured, getting in Nate's face.

"Please don't hurt us!" Christina begged.

The smaller man sniggered. He said something in Spanish that Nate couldn't understand, and then they both laughed.

"Look, I don't want any trouble," Nate began, but they cut him off.

"You should have thought of that before you snitched, niño. We're not here for book club."

Just then, Zoey came around the corner in her Cinderella pajamas. Nate gave her a silent signal to stay still, but it was too late. Not only had the guys already spotted her, but Zoey was halfway across the kitchen. She rushed to put her body in front of Nate's so that the gun was pointed at her chest instead.

"If you're here to kill him, you're going to have to kill me too," she spat, and she didn't sound scared at all. She sounded fiercely angry.

They chuckled. The little girl thinks she is a hero, the taller one laughed. "We not here to kill you. But if you hermano say anything else, we come back for sangre."

Still, Nate nudged her out of the way and stepped back in front of her. He moved back until the small of her back was pressed against the counter. Zoey's fingers clung to the side of his t-shirt.

The small one lowered the gun. He gave one more threat, this one fully in Spanish. Both Zoey and Nate got the gist of it, but Christina seemed clueless. She remained whimpering in the corner.

The two guys left as aggressively as they'd come in, but as soon as they were gone, it was like everything relaxed. Nate took a step forward to give Zoey some space, and he went back to his smoothie as though nothing had happened. He picked up the cutting board and pushed the rest of the fruit into the blender.

"Nate," Zoey tried. Her brother may have seemed normal on the outside, but Zoey could feel the fear inside of him.

He ignored her and pushed the blend button.

"Seriously?"

The loud whirring sound filled the kitchen, but Zoey wasn't having it. "Nate!" She marched over to her brother and shoved his hand off the button. "Fucking stop it."

He looked up at her with a blank expression.

"Those were the guys then?"

Nate nodded.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He stayed still for a moment and then shrugged.

"Okay," she murmured. She stepped next to him and gingerly placed her hand on top of his on the table, giving him time to pull away. He didn't. He turned his hand over underneath hers so he could squeeze her fingers.

"They're gone," she told him. "You protected me, and nobody got hurt, and they're gone now. It's okay."

Nate stared down at the table and nodded.

"It's okay," Zoey repeated.

It was then that Jay walked up the drive. He had gone out early that morning for make-up coffee, something he did when the fights between the siblings got too out of control for their favorite breakfast to be enough. He pulled out all the stops that day and hit the Starbucks down the street. It cost an arm and a leg, but he knew it would mean a lot to Zoey.

"Hey, who the fuck are you guys?" he asked the Mexicans as they walked out of the house.

The larger one shoved past him in silence.

"You wanna tell me why the fuck you were in my house, motherfuckers?" Jay asked, letting the coffee fall to the ground, but the thinner one pulled a gun and pointed it at Jay.

"Shh," he whispered as he passed. "Shh."

They cleared slowly out of the yard and climbed into a little black car. Jay chased it down the street for a few feet, peering closely after it. Then he dashed into the house. "NATE! NATE!" he screamed.

Zoey and Nate were standing side by side. Zoey turned her head to Jay when he came storming in, but Nate left his face resting on her shoulder. Christina was off to the side with tears running down her cheeks, but no one was paying her any attention.

Once Jay saw that his family was okay, he quickly started rummaging through drawers and cupboards for a pen. He was more frantic than Zoey remembered having ever seen him. He jotted a number down on his arm in thick, black Sharpie and then turned to his family. "I got the fucking tag. I got the fucking tag."

He reached for Christina, who was still crying alone in the doorway, and wrapped his arms around her instead of his siblings.

Zoey was livid that he was ignoring Nate. She was fully aware that Jay had figured out who the guys were, and now jay was not only ignoring Zoey's needs, but now he was ignoring Nate's. It was too much for her. "You need to fix the fucking lock," she snapped at Jay.

* * *

"Seventy-seven!" the woman behind the desk at the DMV called. "Next!"

"Hi," Jay said, dashing quickly up to the window.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"How are you doing?"

"Wonderful," she replied flatly. "May I help you?"

"Um, yeah. I just need to get the owner address for this license plate right here," Jay explained, digging a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket.

"You need to fill out a request for record information. You'll get a reply by mail in three weeks," she answered. Her response was so monotone that it was almost as though it was delivered by a robot.

"Three weeks?" Jay asked, pulling a face.

"Probably longer," the woman admitted.

"Oh, boy. I was hoping for today."

"There's nothing I can do about that, sir," she told him. "Next! Seventy-eight!"

Jay spotted a Jesus keychain on her purse and figured his excellent bullshitting skill was worth a shot. "Uh, wait, hold on one sec," Jay said quickly. "Can we share a human moment here?"

"That's what we strive for," the girl deadpanned.

Jay smiled. "I'm Jay. What's your name?"

"Jennifer."

"Jennifer. That is a beautiful name."

"Thank you."

"I, uh," Jay began, lifting his cross necklace out from under his collar. "I run a faith based dog rescue service in Venice."

"I didn't realize I was dealing with a pastor."

"Well, I'm not a pastor. I'm just a deacon. Sadly, um, we had an incident. One of our dogs – Hinoki – she got hit by this very car. Now, I want to believe that these good people of God, they probably didn't even know they squashed her. Or maybe they did, and they were scared, and they fled. It's not my place to judge. But what's really important, the real miracle here, is that Hinoki survived."

"Oh, I'm happy to hear it," Jennifer said.

"Yeah well, she's not quite out of the woods just yet, Jennifer, no ma'am. Now she's got these two busted up legs that need surgery. We're talking five thousand bucks. Each leg. And I don't have that kind of money!"

"You're just a simple deacon."

Jay could tell the woman wasn't buying his story, but he was too far in to give up now. "Exactly. But what I'm thinking is, if I can find these people, I am sure they are going to want to make a donation. What do you say? Help me. Help Hinoki. Jennifer, please."

She shook her head. "Alright, that's just enough stupid crap to make me smile today. Fill out the form so I can put it on file."

"No problemo! And Hinoki thanks you."

"What can I say?" Jennifer asked, scrawling down the address and handing it to Jay. "Hinoki needs her legs."

"Indeed. May peace be with you."

"Mm-hmm. Next!"

* * *

"Show me again," Jay said to Zoey.

"Jay, I've been able to do this shit since I was eleven. You fucking know that," she spat.

"I know," he replied calmly. His sister was still furious with him, but as the "father" of the house, Jay prioritized her safety over her anger. "Just humor me, yeah? One more time."

Instead of just loading and unloading the gun again like Jay had asked, Zoey field stripped the entire thing and put it back together in less than two minutes. Christina, Nate, and Jay all watched as Zoey's thin fingers worked deftly and confidently with the weapon. She clicked the safety off and back on, and then dropped it on the coffee table, coolly leaning back against Nate's knee.

Nate scratched his chin as Christina picked it up again. She fiddled with it for a moment and then shoved it at Jay. "I'm gonna pinch my finger," she whined. "You do it."

"Nate?" Jay asked.

Nate popped the magazine out and back in so that Christina could see. He pointed at the side. "Zee turned the safety on." He clicked the side. "Now it's off." He clicked it again. "And now it's back on."

"Okay."

"Mom, you wanna try it again?" Jay asked.

She hesitated. "Show me one more time."

"No problem," he said. "So, you just push right here so that you depress the bullet, right? And you squeeze it down just like that. You see?" At Christina's nervous expression, Jay added, "Hey. You taught me how to read. I can teach you how to do this."

Christina smiled but couldn't help rolling her eyes.

Zoey reached backwards over her shoulder and handed the extra magazine to Nate, where he was perched on the arm of the couch. He took it and tugged on her ponytail in thanks.

"Now this," Jay explained, "is the safety right here, alright? So it's on here." He slid his finger down it, turning it off. "Now it's off." He repeated the motion. "On… off."

Christina clicked it back and forth several times.

"Not so complicated," Jay said.

"It's really heavy," Christina observed. "I don't know if I'm going to be able to pull the trigger."

"Well, you don't pull the trigger. You squeeze it. I'll take you to the firing range so you can get used to it."

All of a sudden, there was an explosive bang. Nate dug his fingers hard into Zoey's shoulder at the sudden sound. Even Jay jumped. Zoey blinked in surprise – Christina had fired the gun.

Zoey couldn't help the loud burst of hysterical laughter that escaped her. "Oh my fucking god, Jay. Oh my fucking god."

"I thought the safety was on!" Christina exclaimed.

"Don't worry about it," Jay replied calmly.

Zoey shot back, "She could have killed one of you!"

Nate glared at Jay and pulled his little sister out of the room. He tried to pretend that her word choice didn't alarm him.

Jay shook his shoulders out and started over. "So, Mom. This is the safety. The red dot means it's on, okay? On… off… on… off…"

* * *

Nate and Zoey were lying on the couch in front of the newest episode of How To Get Away With Murder, and Christina was taking a nap, so Jay hopped into his truck. He grabbed the sticky note he'd obtained from the DMV a few hours earlier and headed to the address Jennifer had given him.

9348 Lynwood Drive was a one story white house about twenty minutes away. He cruised slowly past the house and watched three Mexican guys in the yard. He forced himself to swallow down the urge to get out of the car and do something stupid. He promised himself he'd come back later.

* * *

Christina was practicing with the gun magazine again when there was a sharp knock at the front door. She carried the gun with her and snuck carefully across the house. She relaxed when she saw who it was. Simultaneously relieved and annoyed, she put down the gun and called for her son.

"Nate! Your dad's here!"

"Coming!"

"Hey," Alvey said when Christina opened the door.

"Hey." She took in his beat up face. "What happened to you?"

"Oh, training. Ya know," Alvey lied. He'd gotten into it with Ryan the other night at the gym, but his estranged wife didn't need to know that.

"Nate's coming," Christina told him.

"Listen, I wanted to talk to you later," Alvey said, looking away. "I was thinking about what you said and you're right, we, uh. We should get this thing over with."

Nate and Zoey appeared in the doorway and then awkwardly backed up. Alvey glanced at them, watching how easily they moved in perfect sync.

"Okay," Christina replied.

"Hey," Alvey said to his kids. "Zo, you coming?"

"Yeah, if that's okay."

"Sure. Nate, we're gonna go with the black shirts. They read better on camera," Alvey explained, parroting what Lisa had said to him that morning.

"Yeah, mine are dirty," Nate replied dismissively.

"All of them?" Alvey inquired.

Nate shrugged and nodded.

"Alright. Go on, you two. Get in the car."

Alvey's kids obeyed, silently passing their mother and heading for the Escalade.

"So, dinner?" Alvey asked Christina once their children were several feet away.

"I don't know, I was thinking more like coffee."

"Coffee. That's fine."

"No, dinner is better. Whatever you want. Just let me know." Christina shut the door.

Alvey shook his head slightly and slid his aviators into place. He followed his kids to the car.

* * *

Nate and Zoey had taken two seats at the crowded bar, and somehow Zoey had charmed the brawny bartender into making her a chocolate milk spiked with vodka. She and Nate were both drinking while they prepared to watch the shit show go down in front of them.

Alvey and Ryan, each badly bruised thanks to the other, were seated in the middle of the table at the head of the room, and the press had swarmed in and claimed every single chair. Even the standing room was nearly completely filled in.

"Alright, quiet down!" Garo yelled, and the crowd slowly hushed. "Now remember, your questions don't start with 'I' – state your name and your publication, and then ask. Yes, the gentleman with the blonde hair."

"Uh, Alvey, I was wondering if-"

"Okay, my friend," Garo interrupted impatiently. "Listen to me. You have to state your name and your publication. Who are you? Where are you from?"

"Seth Macklin, editor in chief of . What's been the biggest challenge shaping Ryan's comeback so far as training, or… you know. What's something you didn't anticipate? Talk about that."

"Uhh, that's a good question. What I didn't anticipate. Let's see, uh. Well, I couldn't anticipate him coming back so fast. You know, he's been away for a bit, and you never know how much a fighter has left in his tank, but after about a week, Ryan. Uh. Ryan showed us. He's probably the best athlete I've ever worked with."

Zoey glanced at Nate; his face was perfectly expressionless.

"I just have a follow-up for Ryan," the guy said. "Have you talked to your father, and will he be attending the fight?"

A low murmur of voices immediately began conversing excitedly.

"How is that relevant to this fight?" Alvey cut in angrily.

Unintimidated, the guy shot back, "It has incredible relevance. Ryan put him in a wheelchair. We want to know."

"Go back to your parents' basement, you fucking jerkoff," Alvey drawled. "Get out of here."

"Okay, listen. Let's keep the questions on the fights," Garo directed.

"The fans wanna know!"

"Shut up," Alvey commanded.

"You had your chance. Be quiet. Please," said Garo.

Nate shook his head at Zoey in disbelief.

"Is it always like this?" she asked him.

"It didn't used to be."

"They don't attack you like this, do they?" she asked, a hint of protectiveness in her voice.

"They don't have anything to attack me for," Nate replied. But that fear crept into the back of his mind again – what if someone found out about him? That's all they'd ever want to talk about. Not his skills in the cage – just who he liked to fuck. That could never happen.

"Good."

All the men were talking loudly over each other. Zoey shot Ryan a sad smile, but his stony expression didn't move.

"Who let this fucking guy in?" Alvey was asking.

"Next question!" Garo called.

"Jesus Christ," Alvey groused. "You got the reaction that you were obviously looking for."

Nate put down his beer in favor of reaching for Zoey's chocolate milk and starting to drain it.

* * *

"Look at my girl with a drink," Alvey smiled at Zoey.

She shrugged, a little bashful.

He pulled her to him so he could kiss her head, and then he turned to Nate. "You talk to the press?"

"Yeah, a few people. They all wanna know when I'll be back."

"You didn't give them a date?" Alvey confirmed.

Zoey handed Nate the beer they'd been sharing and, already bored with the conversation, wandered over to where Ryan was standing. Nate drank a sip. "No."

"Alright, keep it vague."

"Yep."

"We good, you and me?"

Nate looked up at him. "Yeah," he answered honestly.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

Alvey held out his hand, and Nate shook it.

"How are things at home?" Alvey prompted.

Nate almost smiled. "They're fine."

"Yep, fine," Alvey teased, imitating Nate's choppy voice.

Nate quietly laughed.

"How's Zo doing, huh?"

Nate shrugged. "She seems mostly back to normal. She stays alone a lot, and she's still a little weird sometimes, but I think she seems better… She's, like. Jumpy. And her nightmares are bad. And she drinks now, like regularly. Whatever Jay gives her, she drinks. But yeah, other than that…"

Alvey raised his eyebrows. "That was a long list," he commented. "Is your mother behaving, at least?"

"Mm-hmm, yeah. She's doing good," he said, greatly fudging the truth. "Yeah, she's fixing stuff around the house, and… yeah, it looks good. We're cleaning more." Nate intentionally left out all the shit that was going on between Christina and Zoey. Not to mention the incident with the gun that morning. He wasn't quite sure why he was protecting his mom, but something in him told him it was the right thing to do.

"Wow," Alvey mused. "A woman's touch. Bringing you out of squalor."

"Okay gentlemen and lovely lady!" Garo announced. "I have love to make this evening, so if you want a ride, grab Mr. Milk And Cookies and let's get the fuck out of here."

Ryan jogged up and flipped Garo off at the nickname.

"My children, my children don't need to hear that," Alvey moaned, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders, but he was chuckling. "Come on, man."

* * *

Alvey and Christina were at dinner, Zoey was reading in her bedroom, and Nate was parked on the couch playing video games. The living room was filled with the sounds of machine guns firing when Jay slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed out of the house.

"Where are you going?" Nate asked.

"I'm going to the gym. Get a little cardio, start cutting weight for the fight," he replied easily.

"Now?" Nate inquired. "It's almost midnight."

"Yeah. I'm wired." He pointed in Nate in farewell and left through the front door.

"See ya," Nate said.

* * *

"I'm glad you're doing well. I am," Alvey told Christina across town.

"But," Christina filled in, knowing it was coming.

Alvey nodded. "But… are you going to get into a program and do this the right way? I mean, you can't do this by yourself, Christina. You need help. I know a lot of guys at the gym that went through this."

"Yeah. Thank you."

"No, just – if you're serious about it, let me make some phone calls."

"Thank you, Alvey. This conversation never goes anywhere good, so let's just not have it. But thank you."

"Well, for the babies' sake. You can't show up and then disappear again. These kids are fragile."

"The babies?" Christina repeated, her eyebrows arching.

The word had slipped out of Alvey's mouth without him even noticing. He shrugged. "Yeah."

* * *

Jay rode his bike quickly down Ocean Avenue with his hood up. When he got back to the house he'd visited that afternoon, he hid his bike out of sight and pulled on a pair of purple disposable gloves. He tugged his black balaclava down over his face.

His footsteps sounded loud to his ears even though he was taking extra care to walk quietly up to the house. His breath was ragged with anxiety as he tucked his gun into the waistband of his jeans and quietly broke in through the screen porch.

He entered the house silently, creeping across the living room and down a hallway. Jay covered his mouth with one hand to mute his breathing as he drew the gun with the other. Jay entered into a room he correctly assumed would be a bedroom, where the guy who drove the car would sleep (kill only one, and the other would suffer from fear and anticipation).

Jay's hands were steady as he pointed the gun at the man. A girl was sleeping next to him, but Jay didn't care. Nothing mattered except what this fucker had done to Nate. Jay had always vowed to protect his siblings, and this is how he was going to do it. He may have been too late to save Nate from the initial beating, but he wasn't too late to prevent anything from happening again.

Jay clicked the safety off and got ready to squeeze the trigger when all of a sudden, Zoey made a soft sound behind him. Jay blinked, frozen, and then realized that it wasn't Zoey – it was these people's baby in the next room. But it had sounded just like her. Jay had listened to that sound for years, after all – he was the one that got up in the middle of the night to give her a bottle, the one that held her and talked to her, the one that snuggled her back to sleep. And that baby in the room was going to grow up without a father if Jay did what he'd gone there to do. He couldn't do that, not after the way he was raised. Not after the way his kids were raised.

Freezing when his adrenaline was coursing so hard was the complete wrong decision, but it was all his body could do for a moment before it chose fight or flight. Jay rushed quietly back out of the house and pulled his mask off just in time to vomit all over the sidewalk. He stood back up with tears in his eyes and went to retrieve his bike from where he'd stashed it.

All that planning, all that work for fucking nothing. Jack shit. He'd intended to end a man's life tonight, but all he did was pussy out. Nate deserved better.

When Jay got home, Nate, Christina, and that girl Kasey that sometimes hung out at his parties were all there, languidly smoking weed on the couch together. Jay pushed the front door open too hard and let it slam loudly against the wall.

Nate looked up at him but didn't move, and Christina just giggled.

Jay stalked into the kitchen. He wanted to grab a beer, but he was too upset, too shaken. Zoey appeared in the doorway a moment later with a messy bun and the same Cinderella pajamas. She rubbed one of her eyes, but went slowly toward Jay.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Jay just stared, wide-eyed and completely still, at the Salvador Dali clock that hung by the sink.

"Okay," Zoey murmured, walking forward and wrapping her arms around him from behind. "It's okay."

His eyes were gleaming with unshed tears.

"I don't hate you," she whispered, burying her face in his hair. "I'm so sorry I said that. I don't hate you, I swear. I'm really mad, but I could never hate you."

Two tears spilled quickly down his cheeks. "I know," he answered brokenly.

At the sound of his voice, she looked down at his face. "Jay?" she asked, nearly breathless with shock at the sight of her fearless older brother crying.

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Zoey insisted. She put a hand on his cheek.

"Zee, just go back to bed."

"No, Jay. I don't want to leave you like this. I'm-"

"I said go back to bed!" he shouted.

Zoey blinked, stunned. She backed up and then disappeared the way she'd come.

Jay hated how much his voice had reminded him of Alvey, but even more, he hated that Zoey had just looked at him as fearfully as the way she looked at her father.

* * *

The house was quiet the next few days. Zoey was spending an awful lot of time locked up in her room, seemingly talking quietly to herself. She was listening to music again, though, so at least there was that.

On the third day, Nate finally talked his way into her room. He'd gotten home early from Navy Street and seen her carrying a cardboard box through the kitchen. She jumped when he came through the door.

"Uh, hey!" she said too brightly, stumbling over her words. "Hi, Nate! Um, whaaat are you doing home so early?"

He raised his eyebrows and stared at her.

"I'll um. I'll be right back!" She scurried out of the kitchen with the box pressed close to her chest.

10:57 AM

N: Why is Z running through the house with a cardboard box…?

J: I don't know we're not talking but find out I wanna know

Around twenty minutes later, Nate went up to Zoey's door. "Hey. What's in that box?" he asked, not bothering to knock.

"Nothing!" she called.

"It better not be a fucking bird," Nate told her, leaning against the jamb.

"It's not."

"Promise?" he asked.

"I promise it's not a bird," she replied through the door.

"Well, what is it?"

"Nothing, Nate. Go away."

"No. I've heard you talking to whatever it is. Let me see it."

She opened the door just enough to peer at him with one eye. "You can't tell Jay. Or Mom."

"'What've you got?'" Nate quoted. "'Is it the coyote? Swear. The most excellent promise you can make-'"

"Shut up," Zoey told him, rolling her eyes at the familiar ET dialogue. She let him in the door.

"I have absolute power," Nate teased.

Zoey ignored him and reached into the cardboard box, which was now on her bed. "Okay, don't freak out."

"Is it alive?" Nate asked.

"Her name is Mary."

"Mary?"

Zoey pulled a little turtle out of the box. It was maybe five inches long, and it looked practically weightless.

"Zee, oh my god."

"She's so cute," Zoey gushed. "She likes leaves and flowers. And I gave her a strawberry, and she got so excited. She walks around in her box and eats and smells things, and last night I let her sleep on my bed!"

Nate shook his head. "Where did you get it?"

"Her," Zoey insisted. "I found her in the yard."

"She looks pissed off," Nate observed.

"No, she's cute! She has a grumpy face. I love her."

Nate sighed. "I think you should put her back outside."

Zoey pouted. "Why?"

"Cause turtles are hard to take care of."

"No, she's not a turtle. I looked it up. She's a gopherus agassizii."

"A what?"

Zoey smiled. "Better known to the general public as a Desert Tortoise."

"I see. Well, if you're worried you won't be able to find her again, don't be; we have a gate. She can't get out."

"But Jay leaves the gate open! And what if he runs over her with his truck? She'd get crushed."

"I'm sure Mary will be fine. She's made it this far."

"I don't even know how old she is!"

Nate nudged Zoey's shoulder. "Put her outside. You can play with her there."

Zoey sighed. "Fine. But she's coming in sometimes. Like if it's too cold. Or just if I want her to."

Nate rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say."

* * *

A few hours later, Jay got a phone call from Lisa as he was pulling in the driveway. "Hello?"

"Hey, Jay. Your Dad's here. You're on speaker. I need to talk to you both."

"Hey, Lisa. Alvey. What's going on?"

"Well, I was doing some laundry, and I went up to get Zoey's sheets off her bed, and I figured we needed to talk."

"About her sheets?" Jay asked.

"Lis, what's going on?" Alvey inquired.

She sighed. "It may be nothing, but just… there's blood on them. Not period blood. Like, straight lines and big globs of it by her pillow. She usually washes her sheets herself, so I don't know if this is a normal thing or not, but some of it looked like it's been there a while."

"Blood," Alvey echoed. "Why?"

Lisa swallowed. "I think she might be cutting herself."

"What?" Jay asked.

"I thought people didn't really do that," Alvey said. "I thought it was just like, kids on TV."

"Anybody can self harm," Lisa explained. "My sister did it, and now that I'm thinking about it, Zoey shows a lot of the signs."

"Like what?" Jay asked.

"Like when was the last time you saw her wear a t-shirt? She's always got a sweatshirt on, even when it's literally a hundred fucking degrees. And she's alone a lot, she doesn't hang out with her friends…"

"She doesn't have that many friends," Jay reminded.

"And that might be part of it, too. Obviously, she went through a trauma, and that has a huge impact on people. She's not talking about it much, so she's got to be coping in other ways. Maybe cutting is one of them. Listen… I know this might be overstepping, and it's totally up to you guys what you want to do. There's no good way to talk to someone about cutting, but I know somebody who did it. Would you want me to have them talk to her about it?"

"Can't we just talk to her ourselves?" Alvey asked. "Or can you?"

"Sometimes it's better received if the person doesn't feel attacked. Like they're understood. Zoey would be scared enough that we figured it out. She might be afraid that she's in trouble or that we're angry with her."

"Lisa, your sister isn't here anymore," Jay reminded gently.

"I know. It's someone else. Someone she knows."

"Can I ask who?" Jay asked. "I think it's a good idea, but I kind of feel like I need to know who you're sending in."

"Uh, yeah. It's, um." She took a breath. "It's Ryan."

"Wheeler?" Jay asked.

"Yeah."

"No shit?"

"No shit," Lisa echoed. "He's done it on and off for as long as I've known him."

"She fucking adores him," Jay told Lisa. "I don't know about that. Don't you think it would upset her more?"

"Yeah, I think maybe we should talk to her first." Alvey agreed.

"Alvey, what would you say to her?" Lisa asked. "And Jay, she's already mad at you. She's not going to listen to you right now, you know that. But this can't wait. If she fucks up just one time, that could be it. Cutting is fucking serious."

Jay nodded, thinking. "Okay," he softly said. "I'm in."

Alvey sighed tiredly. "Alright. Leave my daughter's wellbeing in the hands of Ryan Wheeler. Sounds like a great plan to me."

"Oh, please. You're practically obsessed with him," Lisa shot back. "We don't have much of a choice right now, and like I said, this is extremely time sensitive."

"Guys," Jay interrupted. They fell quiet. "I think it's our best option. I mean, Lisa's right – she's not listening to anything I say right now. And Dad, no offense, but you're probably not the best person to talk to her about this. Lis, if you felt comfortable doing it, I'm sure you would have volunteered yourself."

"I can do it if you want me to. I mean, she's talked to me about other stuff, it's just that… she sees me as a safe person to talk to. And I don't want to change that."

"A very good point," Jay acknowledged. "So we ask Wheeler."

"We ask Wheeler," Alvey quietly repeated. He sighed, and Jay could practically see him running his hands over his hair. "Alright. Fuck it. We ask Wheeler."


	20. Chapter 20

A sharp knock at the door interrupted Lisa and Alvey's talk with Jay.

"I'll get it," Alvey said. Lisa hung up with Jay as Alvey headed to the front door. Behind the glass was a woman in a pencil skirt and a blazer. He raised his eyebrows slightly and opened the door. "Hi, can I help you?"

"Are you Alvey Kulina?"

"I am. Who are you?" Alvey asked, a hint of rudeness in his voice.

"Jessica Carlson from Los Angeles Child Protective Services."

Alvey immediately dropped the attitude and let her in. "Welcome," he said, stepping out of her way. He shut the door behind her and tucked his hands into his pockets. "My - my daughter's actually not here right now."

"Who's this?" Lisa asked, coming around the corner. She smiled politely.

"Jessica. From CPS," Alvey explained, giving her a look.

"Oh, of course!" Lisa said, forcing a smile. She held her hand out for the other woman to shake.

"Your daughter's not here?" Jessica asked.

"No, I'm afraid not," Alvey said.

"Where is she?"

"She spends a lot of time at her older brother's place. He lives like six minutes away. You want me to have him bring her over?"

"Please," the woman said.

"Alright. I'll just be a minute."

Lisa went to get the woman a glass of water while Alvey called his son back.

"Hey, it's Dad," Alvey said.

"Yeah, I have Caller ID," Jay replied, his tone full of snark. "What do you want? We just hung up."

"I need you to bring your sister down here."

"So, she's cutting herself, she has a pet tortoise, and now she's got to go back to your place? I don't think so. I just walked in the door, Pops."

"I don't give a fuck. You need to drive her here _now,_ Jay."

"Dad, I said no."

"And I said yes." He lowered his voice to a hiss. "Fucking CPS is here, okay?"

A beat passed. "What?"

"Yeah. The doctor had to report what Zoey said, and now they want to check on her. And she's not here. So get her ass down here."

"Dad, stop it. If you let them overhear you talking like that, we're fucking screwed."

"I know. Please just do this for me."

"If you get her taken away from me, I swear to fucking God I'll kill you." He sighed at Alvey's silence. "I'm on my way."

* * *

Five minutes later, Jay's truck was sitting in Alvey's driveway. Instead of just dropping Zoey off, though, Jay had insisted on coming in with her.

"Older brother at your service," he informed the social worker, bowing dramatically.

She tilted her head at his strangeness, but quickly composed herself. "Hi. Would you mind staying for a moment? I need to talk to Zoey alone, but I'd also like to talk to the rest of the family if I may."

Zoey looked terrified. Alvey had never thought to warn her that the city was taking action. He'd thrown her into this practically blind. Still, he was sure Jay had done as much coaching as he could on their way over.

"Zoey, my name is Jessica," the woman smiled. "Can we go up to your room?"

"It's a little messy," Zoey confessed shyly.

"That's alright with me if it's alright with you."

Zoey looked to Jay.

"I'm not goin' anywhere," he promised. She didn't miss the X he traced over his heart.

She swallowed hard and nodded at the woman.

"Alright. I'll follow you."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Jay turned to Lisa. He spoke quickly and urgently. "Okay, look. They're gonna videotape her up there. She knows that; we've done this before. I told her she can say whatever she wants. But as for us, we'll probably never get to hear what she says. So we can only answer the social worker's direct questions, okay? I don't want them trying to take Zee away."

"Will they do that?" Lisa asked, eyes wide.

"Not for this, no. Sorry, I'm just… I get little paranoid around these people. If our stories don't match up, though, it'll look weird, you know? And I don't want Zee to get in trouble if she decides not to tell the whole truth. This isn't our first rodeo," he sighed. "They've tried to take both my kids from me before, but all you have to do is just let them know how much you love her and tell them that we want to protect her. Cause we do."

"Of course we do," Lisa affirmed.

Jay smiled at her sadly. "With a lot of these families, that's not the case." He glanced over at Alvey. "With our family, that used to not be the case."

Alvey looked at his feet. He cleared his throat. "So, how long is this gonna take?"

"Could be three minutes. Could be twenty. It depends on the social worker, but it mostly depends on Zee."

Upstairs, the camera was set up, and the woman had her list of questions handy. "You ready?" she asked kindly.

"Yeah."

"Okay." The social worker pressed record. "So, Zoey, where do you go to school?"

"Um, Venice High."

"Do you like it there?"

She shrugged. "It's okay, I guess."

"Do you have a lot of friends?"

"A few."

"Are you thinking about going to college?" the woman asked.

"Maybe."

The social worker smiled at her. "I know you're nervous, but you don't need to be. I'm just here to make sure you're doing okay. I don't want to take you away from your family or anything like that."

Zoey nodded at the carpet.

"I know you've met with people like me before, and I know that was probably a really scary time, right?"

Zoey looked up at her. None of the people from DFCS she'd met before ever acknowledged what her side of the investigation would be like. "Yeah, it was," she admitted. "It was kind of awful."

The woman looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry. Do you remember how old you were?"

"Uh, well it was twice. Once when I was eight, and then again when I was eleven."

"And you're seventeen now?"

"Sixteen."

"Sixteen," the woman repeated. She jotted something down on her notepad. "But you'll be a senior next year?"

"Yeah."

"That's exciting."

"I think it would be better if I knew what I was going to do after school." At the woman's expression, Zoey elaborated. "Like, I don't know anything about whether I should go to college or if I should get a job… No one in my family's gone to college. Neither of my brothers went to college because they're fighters, and my dad was the same."

"Oh, like MMA?"

"Yeah."

"Hm. I thought I recognized your Dad's name."

"Yeah, you probably did. He owns-"

"Navy Street," they finished together.

The woman laughed. "Yeah. My ex-boyfriend was really into that."

Zoey smiled knowingly. "It's a lifestyle. Even for me, and I hate fighting. I mean, I'll get in the cage and mess around with my brothers, but I never wanted to fight. Cutting weight alone is like, the worst thing I can imagine."

"Ugh, and don't they do like ten pounds?"

"Sometimes more. Jay, my brother you saw downstairs? He had to cut twenty pounds once, and he did it in two days."

"Oh, my god!"

"Yeah. It's pretty awful. But it's always worth it for them when they win."

"Really?"

"Yeah, cause it's weeks of training, and it all boils down to about twenty minutes. They can't fight every week cause they get beat up so bad. So it's really special when it's their week to be the one in the cage."

"You're really involved in this then?"

"Oh, hell yes," Zoey laughed. "I mean, it's my dad's gym, so when I was younger, he always dragged me there. I was there literally every day. But the guys were fun. They loved to pick me up and run around with me and teach me stuff, and it was cool cause they have all these tattoos and giant muscles, and I was this little kid with missing front teeth that wanted to get in the cage and try to fight them." She smiled at the memory. "And Jay and Nate – my brothers – they're always training, so I'm there when I can be. It got busy at the end of the school year, so I wasn't there as often, but now that it's summer, it's back to a constant. It's actually a fun place to hang out. It's never boring."

"You like the gym better than school?"

"Oh, definitely." Zoey checked herself and then reeled it in a little. "I just fit in better at the gym, I guess. I mean, most of these guys watched me grow up, so it's really comfortable there. I never have to worry about fitting in or being the weird kid or anything."

"Do you feel like the weird kid at school?"

Zoey shrugged. "Sometimes."

The social worker hummed sadly. "Why?"

"I mean, I have people to sit with at lunch, but I haven't seen any of them all summer. We're more like acquaintances."

"Do you have a best friend?" she inquired thoughtfully.

"My brother Nate."

"And he's how many years older?" She didn't sound accusing, just curious.

"Four. But it's never mattered. I mean, you have my file – you know we grew up kind of different. Well actually, it probably doesn't sound too crazy on paper, but I just mean different by 'normal' standards. The kids in the apartments we lived in always had moms and dads, and they had money for groceries and toys. But we just had Jay. Not that Jay was bad; he was the best. He still is. Anyway, it helped knowing there was somebody who totally got what life was like. He just happened to also be my brother. It was pretty convenient, actually."

"Does Nate look out for you?"

Zoey nodded. "Like a wolf. Jay's totally _over_ protective. Nate's just really – he thinks I'm his responsibility, I guess. But in a good way."

"You feel safe with your brothers?"

"Very," Zoey replied truthfully.

"You know they love you?"

Zoey laughed. "Sometimes too much."

"Good, good. What about your dad? Do you feel safe here?"

"Yeah. It's a really nice house."

"It is," the woman agreed. "But I meant something a little different. Does being around your Dad make you feel safe?"

Zoey went for the truth. "It didn't used to. I don't think he'd ever try to hurt me, and I know that for sure now. It's a lot better here than it was."

"Why do you say that?"

"He and my oldest brother used to fight a lot. So there was always a lot of yelling and breaking things. But now that I'm the only kid left in the house, things run a lot smoother. I'm not a troublemaker."

"Well, that's good!"

"Yeah, it makes life easier."

The woman glanced down at her pad. "Alright, so we talked about school and your family… but now I have to talk to you about the report."

Zoey deflated a little. She'd actually been enjoying talking to the social worker. It was almost like having a friend.

"It shouldn't be too bad," the woman told her. "I just want you to be okay, that's all. You seem like a really sweet young lady."

Zoey faked a smile.

"Alright, so… it looks like you weren't talking for a while. Can you tell me about that?"

Zoey's voice dropped to a murmur. "At first I just didn't feel like it, but then I really couldn't say anything no matter how hard I tried."

"Because something bad happened?"

She nodded.

"Can you tell me about it?"

"I don't want to," she whispered.

"I know it can be hard to talk about," she empathized.

Zoey nodded again. She wrapped her arms around her body.

The social worker jotted something down. "Alright. I know you're not comfortable telling me what happened, and that's fine, sweetie. But can I ask you some questions about it? They won't be too invasive, I promise."

Zoey nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Okay. If you don't want to answer any of them, you can just say 'pass,' okay?"

"Okay."

"Alright, let's see. Somebody hurt you, right?"

"Yes."

"Just one person?"

"Yes."

"Is this a person you still see often?"

"No."

"When was the last time you saw the person?"

Zoey swallowed. "When…" she trailed off.

"The day of the abuse?" she asked.

Zoey's heart caught in her throat at the use of that word. She blinked back tears. "Um, yeah."

The social worker looked at her sadly. "This person touched you without your consent?"

Zoey nodded. "Can I, um. Can I go see my brother now?"

"Sure, sweetie."

Zoey stood up and exited the room. The social worker stopped the camera and followed behind her.

"Jay?" Zoey called shakily as she came down the stairs.

Jessica was close enough behind Zoey to see Jay quickly get to his feet and walk up to his little sister.

"Hey," he whispered.

She smashed into him at the bottom of the staircase, throwing her arms around his neck and crying softly into his shoulder.

"Okay, it's okay," Jay murmured. He lifted her off the top step and set her gently on the ground a few feet away from the stairs. "You did so good," he told her, even though he hadn't been in the room. "You're done now, yeah? All done. It's okay."

She sniffed and readjusted, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing her face into the center of his chest.

He kissed the top of her head and slowly swayed back and forth as he held her. "Aw, Zee, it's okay. It's over."

Lisa flitted over and ran her hand over Zoey's hair. She looked questioningly over at the social worker.

"We just had to get through some tough questions," Jessica explained. "Mr. Kulina, would it be alright if I talk to you while Jay helps Zoey calm down?"

"Uh, sure," Alvey answered.

"I'm sorry," Zoey was babbling tearfully. "I should have listened to you, I should have just gone back to my room."

"Shh," Jay hushed gently, but he leaned down to mutter something in her ear. "Wait til they leave, okay? Then we'll talk."

Alvey led the woman to the couch in the other room, and Lisa busied herself pouring Zoey a glass of ice water. Jay managed to get Zoey onto one of the bar stools before she resumed her apology.

"If I had just listened to you, I wouldn't have bothered you and you wouldn't have gotten mad at me, and then I wouldn't have gotten yelled at," she said sadly. "It was all my fault."

"You were just trying to help," Jay reminded her, sounding a little upset himself. "I shouldn't have yelled."

"But it doesn't matter. I was fucking terrible. I called Mom a whore, and I yelled at you… I mean, I still mean what I said, but God. I was horrible to you. You were just trying to be happy. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," Jay confessed.

Zoey blinked up at him, confused.

"You were right. I wasn't fucking there for you when you needed me. I made that promise to you and Nate a long time ago, and I really meant to keep it. But I got blinded trying to help Mom. You guys slipped out of my focus, and that was completely my fucking fault."

Zoey nodded, processing.

"She's family, but you're family, too."

"Maybe it's selfish," Zoey began quietly, "but I don't want to be on the same level as her."

Jay huffed, amused.

Zoey started to get angry. She immediately defended herself. "I just think after all you did for me, after all we've been through, that I deserve a little more. Just a little."

"No, no, I know," Jay quickly explained. "I was laughing because… well, because I think it's fucking sad that you think you have to say that. And I guess I haven't done a good job of making that clear." He sighed. "Look. I love you so fucking much. I go crazy when anything happens to you, and I should never have used what Dad told me as a comeback. I was just so… I had no idea what to say, Zee. I'm sorry I yelled at you the other night, cause you really didn't fucking deserve it. And mostly I'm just sorry I made you feel like you couldn't talk to me."

"It's okay," Zoey muttered, swirling the ice in her glass.

"No, it's not. It's really not. But I'm gonna work on it. You 'n me 'n Nate. Always. Okay?"

"You n' me n' Nate," she echoed, smiling a little.

Lisa slid a napkin toward her, which she used to wipe her eyes and gently blow her nose. "Thanks."

"No problem," the older girl responded, coming around the counter. "Are you okay?" She wrapped her arm around Zoey's shoulders.

"I think so." Zoey leaned into her. She asked Jay, "Did you give them the talk?"

"The talk about dinner?" Jay intoned, winking. He knew she meant what was acceptable and not acceptable in front of the social worker. "Yeah."

"Okay, good. I didn't tell her anything you don't already know about."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Lisa reassured her.

"It better be."

Pretty soon, the social worker came back into the main room with Alvey in tow.

"Jay? Would it be alright if I spoke with you as well?"

"Sure," he said, hopping to his feet. "I'm a fountain of knowledge."

He followed her to the living room.

"I'm Jessica, as I said before."

"I'm Jay," Jay grinned. The pair shook hands. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Jessica didn't seem distracted by Jay's charm, so he toned it down a little.

"Obviously, I'm here to talk about your sister. I just wanted to get a feel from you about what she's like, how she's doing, all that."

"Just like… in general?"

"Anything you want to share."

"Okie-dokie. Well, she's a hell of a sister. She has the biggest heart out of anybody I know. In fact, my brother just told me she found some tortoise in the yard the other day and named it Mary."

Jessica chuckled.

"I mean, who names a tortoise _Mary_? Only my little sister." Jay shook his head. Then his tone changed. "We actually, uh. We got in a fight the other day, so I haven't been as up on what's going on with her as I usually am. She needs her space right now."

"Didn't look like that a minute ago."

Jay nodded tightly. "Yeah… I don't know. I mean, to her, I'm kind of her mom _and_ her dad, so when stuff goes wrong, I'm the one she goes to. You probably read the file, but, uh. Our parents weren't super involved."

"Yeah, I did see that. You raised Zoey and Nate?"

Jay shrugged modestly. "Kinda, yeah. I did what I had to do."

"That's incredible," she said. "So you must know Zoey really well."

He nodded. "I do, yes."

"Has she been acting differently these past few weeks?"

Jay shrugged. "I mean, a little. People don't just snap back to normal. But she seems like she's handling everything okay. Better than I would."

"Has she sought counseling or therapy?"

"No, nothing like that. She's shared bits and pieces with my family here and there, but no, she's never asked to talk to a professional."

"Well, I recommended to your dad that she does. It's really important for her to sort through all the things she's feeling. Sexual trauma is one of the most taxing and upsetting things a person can go through."

"Really?" Jay asked, a little surprised. He knew it was no picnic, but he didn't know it ranked so high on Jessica's list.

"Oh, definitely. The death of a child is probably number one, but then sexual trauma follows. I'll tell you what I told your dad; the biggest misconception about sexual assault is that it's about sex. It's not."

 _It's not?_ Jay wondered.

"It's about power. The victims are often left feeling completely helpless. That's most likely why your sister stopped talking. She explained to me that she felt that nothing was worth saying after what happened to her because it had such a great effect on her. And that implies that she was feeling that her thoughts were worthless and didn't need sharing."

"Shit," Jay muttered.

Jessica smiled sympathetically. "Now, I know I don't know Zoey nearly as well as you do, but I am a little concerned that she's not doing as well as she seems."

Jay shifted nervously.

"I'm not saying that you failed this inspection, because you certainly didn't. I can see that Zoey has a strong support system here between you and your parents."

 _Lisa's not my mom,_ Jay wanted to say, but he didn't. Instead, he said, "We love her a lot."

"I can tell. I just want you all to be warned about some things that come with surviving sexual assault. I warned your father as well."

"Okay…"

"The majority of survivors lapse into a very serious depression. There's no clear way to handle trauma – most people are never taught how to cope with intense feelings like the ones that occur after assault. Because of this, your family will need to be on the lookout for suicidal ideation or any other reckless or self-harming behavior. This can be drug and alcohol use, promiscuity, inflicting pain on others, emotional instability, unexplainable marks on her arms, loss of empathy, or even something as simple as lying when she normally wouldn't. She's very reluctant to speak about her experience, which means that she's got to be trying to handle what happened in other ways. You also need to watch for PTSD symptoms – nightmares, nervousness, avoidance of people and situations- "

"Uh, hold on, I'm sorry. She's gonna try to kill herself?"

"I'm not saying your sister will definitely attempt suicide, but it can be very difficult, especially for someone her age, to sort through everything she's thinking and feeling without wondering whether she'd be better off… dead. That's why I'm recommending therapy or counseling."

Jay started nervously messing with his bracelets.

"Another thing – a large amount of survivors don't disclose the details of their assault until at least a month or so after the incident takes place. They need to process it alone before they're willing to let other people in, but they also worry that their story will be a burden to other people. I've gathered that your family is a very protective bunch, and I just wanted to tell you that if she does share with you what happened, whether soon or in the future, one of the worst things you can do is threaten the person that hurt her. Don't make it about them. Let it be about her. Tell her you believe her and tell her you love her, and leave it at that. This is a time of healing, not a time of revenge."

Jay nodded. "Got it."

"Be loving, be there for her. She needs you more than she's letting on. She didn't ask to stop the interview when I was with her; she said, 'Can I go see my brother?'"

Jay could feel his heart melting a little at Jessica's words.

"She loves you very much, and she really looks up to you. All you have to do is let her know that you love her back."

* * *

After Alvey closed the door behind the social worker, he turned to his family. "Alright," he said. "I have an idea."

"What?"

"Well, tomorrow is the Fourth of July. Why don't you all come over in the afternoon and we can grill in the backyard like we used to?"

Jay raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Alvey shrugged and stuffed his hands into his jeans. "I mean, yeah, if you want."

"That sounds fun," Zoey offered. "I want to."

"Yeah?" Alvey asked, a hint of a smile on his face.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay. Well, tell Nate. And Jay? Please don't bring your mother."

Jay playfully flipped Alvey off, slid his arm over Zoey's shoulders, and led her out of the house.

"You still mad at me?" he asked.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Are you coming to Dad's, and are you bringing Mom?"

Jay stopped walking and looked at his little sister. "You come first. I'm going with you. Just me and Nate."

"You n' me n' Nate," she said, echoing his earlier words.

"You n' me n' Nate," he repeated, an affectionate smile on his face.

"Then I don't think so," she said. "I'm not mad."

They hugged, and Jay smiled into her shoulder. Who knew Zoey was the jealous type?

"Good. Cause tomorrow's gonna be fucking wild." He let go of her, and they walked to the car.

"Ooh, do you think Dad will get sparklers? And bang snaps?"

"I'll make sure he does."

"Yes," she whispered, clambering up into the front seat.

* * *

"So, Nate tells me you have a little friend?" Jay asked once they got back to the house.

"Yeah," she smiled, a little guiltily.

"A turtle?" he asked, just for the sake of letting her correct him.

"She's a tortoise."

"And you named her Mary?" Jay confirmed.

Zoey giggled. "Yeah. Once you see her face, you'll understand."

"Is she in your room?"

"No, Nate wanted me to let her stay outside. He said tortoises are hard to take care of and that she'd probably be happier out there. But I'm gonna keep an eye on her. So _don't_ move her out of the yard, okay?"

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Mary!" Zoey called. "Where are you?"

"Mary, Mary, quite contrary. How does your garden grow?" Jay sang.

Zoey moved to whack at him, but he jumped out of the way.

After another moment of looking, Zoey spotted her. "There you are!" She reached under the picnic table and produced a five-inch shell.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Mary." He turned to Zee. "Man, Nate was right. She really _is_ ugly."

Zoey scowled at him and yanked Mary away. "Don't listen to my brothers," she softly said to the tortoise, lightly stroking her wrinkly head. "They're total assholes."

"Do you think turtles know what assholes are?"

"She's a tortoise, Jay!"

"Oh, right, right," he teased. "Sorry."

Zoey shook her head and set Mary down. "Go play," she told her. "I'll come check on you later." Then, to Jay, "You have to be nice or you can't see her anymore, okay? She's my friend."

Jay's heart broke a little at that statement. "Okay, kiddo. Come on, let's go in and start dinner."

* * *

"Hey!" Lisa and Alvey chorused the next night as the Kulina kids walked in the door.

"Hey," Jay greeted. He was clad in bright red swim trunks with no shirt.

Zoey and Lisa shared a hug and walked through the house to the back door. Nate shook hands with Alvey and then followed Lisa and his sister.

"Ryan's here, and Joe Daddy brought his family," Lisa told her.

"Who else is coming?" Nate asked from behind them.

"Mac and Juan."

"Cool," Zoey nodded.

Just then, Jay plowed through the middle of the group walking to the backyard and cannonballed into the pool between the Stevenson boys. Nate rolled his eyes.

Jay came up for air, but Wheeler quickly jumped on top of him and pushed his head back under.

"Ay, don't drown him," Alvey called, but he let the antics continue.

Pretty soon, all three Kulina kids were in the pool. Jay and Zoey were having a chicken fight with Joe Daddy and Ryan. Nate refereed. Alvey was taping with his phone instead of grilling, but Lisa was glad. He was acting like a father again.

Ryan successfully knocked Zoey down into the pool, and Joe Daddy took him around on a victory lap with his kids cheering and following behind. Jay dunked Zoey in the deep end. Alvey put down the phone and assessed the meat.

"Okay, show of hands!" he bellowed once Zoey surfaced. "Who wants burgers?"

Ten hands went up.

"Who wants hot dogs?"

Eight hands.

"You animals!" Alvey crowed. "Always eating me out of house and home. Alright, give me twenty minutes."

"Sure thing, coach!" Joe Daddy called.

The sun set lazily in the sky as Kulina and company ate every last ounce of meat Alvey had bought. Still, the Italian blood in his veins was satisfied knowing his family was stuffed. Zoey and Nate were smashed next to each other with a bag of Doritos. Zoey swiped an orange line of chip dust down Nate's cheek, and a fight nearly broke out between them. Jay quickly separated them and settled them down. Tyler climbed up into Zoey's lap, and she squeezed him around his middle and pecked his cheek.

When the paper plates were all empty and a lone red solo cup was somehow floating in the pool, Alvey made another announcement. "Alright, as per my baby girl's request, I went out and bought you yahoos some sparklers. She also asked for those little pop-it things, so here they are. I don't want anybody throwing these at anybody else, ya hear? I'm not driving any of you to the fucking emergency room."

Jay howled, and the rest of the clan followed suit.

"Aw, fuck," Alvey sighed. "Zo, come on!"

Tyler hopped down off her lap. She still had a towel wrapped around her shoulders when she went over to where Alvey was standing. He handed her a wire and then lit the end – her face glowed in the warm orange light of the sparkler.

"Ay, not too close to your face," Jay called.

"Who wants one?" Alvey asked.

Pretty soon, the backyard was filled with the sound of loud pops and fizzing sparklers. Lisa wrapped her arms around Alvey's stomach and laid her head on his chest. "Thank you for this," she murmured. "Look how happy they are."

"Buncha children," Alvey huffed.

"But they're smiling. And we're all together." She looked up at him.

"What?"

"I don't know. I'm just happy. This was a great idea."

Alvey smiled and leaned down to kiss her. Jay and Nate were firing pop-its at each other's bare feet, though, and Alvey had to go yell at them and break it up before Tyler and Joey followed suit.

Somebody started firing off fireworks at the beach, and the sparklers were running out. Ryan walked up to Zoey from behind. "Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked softly.

She turned, wide-eyed and confused, but nodded. She followed him into the house.

He flipped the kitchen light on and filled a glass with the root beer he found in the fridge.

"How you been?" he asked her. He leaned back against the counter.

She smiled. "Fine. You?"

"No, I'm not just being polite," he said, making eye contact. "I really want to know."

"Oh," Zoey replied awkwardly. She glanced down at the floor, a little self-conscious. This was weird. "I'm good. Why? Did Jay say something?"

"No, nobody said anything. I just… when we were playing in the pool, I saw your wrist."

Zoey's stomach dropped. _Fuck._ She'd thought no one would see so long as she stayed moving and kept her arms underwater when she could.

"I don't think anybody else saw, and I'm not gonna get you in trouble," Ryan explained. "I'm just worried. Whatever it is that's making you do that? You need to tell somebody. You can tell me, or you can tell Jay, or whoever the fuck you want. Just don't bottle it up like I did."

Zoey's eyebrows creased.

"Look." Ryan put his drink down and held out both arms to Zoey. They were littered with white scars like hers were, but his were wider and deeper. How had she never noticed these before?

Before she could stop herself, she was reaching out to touch them. Her fingertips were gentle on the thick, angry marks scratched and sliced into his forearms. Ryan gave a small shiver. She quickly took her hand back.

"Sorry," she hurriedly muttered.

"No, it's okay," he said in that gentle, sincere tone of his. "I just don't want you to feel trapped like I did. You have so many people that love you. Let them help you. Your brothers are so worried about you."

"I know," Zoey answered softly.

"So let them in. That's all you have to do. Just tell them what's going on, okay? Whatever it is. It's not gonna scare them off, I promise. They love you."

With no warning, Zoey threw her arms around Ryan's neck. He caught her in a hug and let his chin rest on her shoulder. She was so much older now, but she still hugged like a child. Ryan was glad she'd retained at least part of her sweet innocence.

She pulled back and asked, "Is it okay if I just go up to them and blurt out what happened?"

"You can handle it any way you want. You just have to get it out of here," Ryan explained, tapping Zoey's forehead.

She nodded. "Okay. Okay, um. I'm gonna do it now before I lose the guts."

Ryan grinned. "Sounds good, Little Zee. I'll keep everybody busy for you, okay? Hang in there. You got this."

"I got this," she repeated quietly, trying to make herself believe it.

"You got this."


	21. Chapter 21

Fireworks were still exploding over the ocean when Zoey recruited Nate to help her round up the family. She thought he might press her about what was going on, but she was thankful when he merely complied with her request.

Nate located Alvey and Lisa by the pool. Jay was over by the table, still munching on macaroni salad when Zoey went up to him. He was thumbing through his phone but looked up when he saw her coming over.

"Hey."

"Hi. I need to talk to you. Now."

"Okay," he said. He slid his cell into the pocket of his now-dry swim trunks and followed her into the house. He ran his fingers through the ends of her hair to detangle them as they waited for Nate, Lisa, and Alvey to come sit down.

It only took three minutes to get everybody together and into the living room. Nate sat down between Jay and Zoey, and Lisa sat on Zoey's other side. They all wound up on the floor, leaning back against the couches.

"Okay," Zoey began. "I'm really nervous to do this, but I'm ready to talk about what happened now. I know it's not really the best timing, but I think if I don't do it right this minute, I'm never going to. So if you don't want to hear about it, you can leave now."

"We all want to hear," Lisa assured her.

She nodded. "Okay. Then the only thing I need is for everybody to please not talk until I'm finished. This isn't going to be easy for any of you to hear, but I need you to not interrupt me. Alright?"

Nate nodded, so Zoey took that as a group yes. She looked around at her family – this was the last moment of their innocence. She took a deep breath and started from the beginning.

"So, the night Nate got home from the hospital after he got hurt, I was at Dad and Lisa's. And then I left before dinner and I went over to Nate and Jay's."

It was too hard to look anywhere but the carpet as she spoke, so she let the pattern of the rug burn into her eyes.

"Nate was sleeping cause he was on his pain meds, and Jay went to a party on the beach, so I was pretty much by myself. I was going to take a shower before I went to bed, but right after I turned the water on, I thought I heard the front door open. I called Jay's name, but he didn't say anything, which wasn't like him. So then I went to check on Nate, but his door was still shut, so I knew he was still asleep."

Nate reached out and wrapped his hand around Zoey's. She was grateful for his warm fingers. She swallowed and continued.

"I went out to the main room to see if Jay had come in and he just hadn't heard me, and then…" She choked up.

Alvey's nails were digging into the soft skin where his arms were crossed. Jay was unconsciously clenching and unclenching his jaw. Zoey cast her eyes down to where Nate's hand was holding hers.

"And then somebody grabbed me from behind, and. And."

Nate reached for her, and she gladly buried her face in his shoulder.

"Zee, you're safe now," Lisa quietly reminded. "We're not going to let anyone hurt you."

She nodded but remained pressed into Nate's arms. It was warm there, and quiet. His heartbeat was steady under her fingertips. She wanted to stay there forever, but Ryan was right – Zoey had to get the story out. She sat up but stayed close to her brother.

"He grabbed me from behind and he pushed me down to the floor. I elbowed him really hard like you taught me," she said, making eye contact with Alvey, "but he was way bigger than me and he bounced back really quick."

Alvey looked like his heart was breaking, so Zoey looked away.

"I know you guys think somebody touched me. But that's not… that's not what happened. He…"

Zoey swallowed hard. The word had never crossed her lips, and she wasn't ready for it to now. She didn't want this thing to have happened to her, and as long as she didn't say it, it wouldn't be real. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm sorry."

Nate was silent as he embraced her again, but she could feel the anger and fear coursing through his thoughts.

Time ticked by.

"Zee," Lisa finally murmured. "Honey, can I ask a question?"

Zoey nodded into Nate's shoulder.

"Look at me, baby."

Zoey turned to Lisa.

"Did he rape you?" Lisa asked, so softly it was almost inaudible.

Zoey was still for several seconds. Every person in the circle was simultaneously dying for and dreading the answer. There was no way the answer could be anything but a yes. Still, there was a fraction of a chance…

Zoey nodded. One simple, small nod.

Alvey dropped his head into his hands. Lisa sat back in disbelief. Jay started crying.

"I did everything you told me to," Zoey explained desperately to her oldest brother, trying to defend herself against their disappointment and disgust. "I fought like you said to, and I was screaming for help, but he hit my head on the floor really hard, and I was so dizzy and it hurt so bad, and I couldn't – it _hurt_ , and I didn't know what to do. I tried for so long, but I couldn't keep going, I just wanted him to stop. Jay, I'm so sorry."

"No, _I'm_ sorry," Jay said, trying not to sob. "I should have been there."

"You couldn't have known," Lisa told him. "None of us knew."

Nate abruptly stood up and walked out the front door.

Zoey stared after him, heartbroken at the echo of his feelings tangling inside her chest. She clutched at her collarbone, trying to make it stop. The only thing for her to do was keep talking.

"He left the house, and I put my clothes back on and ran to Dad's. I didn't know what else to do. I stayed in my room for hours, and in the middle of the night, I rearranged all my furniture. And then I went downstairs and did the same thing. That was like, four o'clock or something. And then I cleaned everything I could think of and I made Dad breakfast and cleaned some more. I didn't sleep. That night was when I got drunk. It was only because I couldn't stop fucking thinking about what happened."

Jay buried his face in his hands, remembering the phone call that had come soon after.

"I wasn't sick, but I didn't know how to say it. I _couldn't_ say it. I just wanted to sleep until it didn't hurt anymore, but it was like every time I woke up, I felt worse. That's why I was drinking. It wasn't because I was trying to be bad. It's because I was trying to forget."

Jay crossed the circle and hugged her. "I'm so sorry I yelled at you on the phone. I didn't know. I didn't understand."

"I know," Zoey whispered. She hugged him tightly. "It's okay. I should have said something then, but I didn't know how. And then I couldn't say anything at all. And now fucking DFCS is involved, and I just want it all to go away. I need it to fucking go away." She swallowed, taking a moment to just breathe. Then she asked, "Is Nate okay?" When no one said anything, Zoey got up and followed her brother out the front door.

The quiet in the room was overwhelming. No one had the guts to look at anyone else, so the oldest members of the family sat awkwardly together.

"Oh my fucking god," Alvey finally whispered. "My kid. My fucking kid. Who fucking did this, huh? She tell either of you?"

"I've definitely never heard about any of this before," Jay muttered, still choked up.

Lisa nodded as she motioned him over. "Come here, Jay," she murmured. She moved up to the couch, and he followed.

He leaned his head on her chest and tried to slow his breathing. He kept thinking it should have been Christina to hold him like this, but after what she'd said to Zoey, he wasn't sure he was comfortable with the idea of that anymore. Lisa had always been there for his whole family anyway. He wasn't afraid to cry in front of her.

"The fuck are we gonna do?" Alvey asked.

"Whatever we can do," Lisa answered. "We watch her, make sure she seems like she's coping. We make sure she's safe. We put her in therapy; there's no debate about that now."

"This is all my fault," Jay murmured brokenly.

"No," Lisa responded sharply. "Jay, look at me. _Look_ at me."

He obliged.

"Don't say that. It's not true. And don't let Zee hear you say that, okay? Ever."

Jay sniffed. "Why?"

Lisa shook her head. "Because it implies that it could have been stopped. We can't go back and change what happened, no matter how much we wish we could. I know it fucking sucks, but all we can do is try to help Zee feel less pain. So throw all that energy into that, okay?"

Jay nodded slowly, sitting up and swiping at his eyes. "I'm gonna go check on my kids," he muttered.

As soon as he was out of the room, Alvey's face crumbled. "My little girl," he said tearfully.

"Oh, Alvey," Lisa replied sadly. She moved back to the floor, straddled Alvey's legs, and wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders.

He sobbed into her chest, his ribs quaking. Lisa had never seen him like this, not even after Nate's attack. He never let anyone see him weak. But now? His reaction frightened Lisa a bit, but she reminded herself that this is what any good father would do.

"I know," Lisa murmured, holding him tighter. "I know."

Outside, Jay stayed in the doorway. He could see Nate and Zoey but not hear them. They hadn't noticed him yet. They were standing several feet away on the boardwalk near Alvey's driveway. Nate had his hands on the wooden fence, and he was staring off in the direction of the ocean.

A green firework exploded in the sky as Zoey put her hand on top of one of Nate's. As soon as she touched him, his body seemed to crumble. Nate turned away from her.

Jay's stomach dropped as he realized Nate was shaking. He was likely crying, which was something Jay hadn't seen since Nate was fifteen and CPS was loading him into a van to send him to a foster family.

Ryan came outside and saw Jay standing there. "Hey, man," he said slowly, trying to get a read on the situation.

Jay nodded at him shortly.

"Everything okay?"

Jay looked at Ryan for a long time. Then he softly said, "I think Nate's crying." He motioned to where Zoey and Nate were standing.

"Oh, fuck," Ryan murmured.

"Zoey got raped," Jay blurted. "And she didn't tell anybody. And Lisa thinks she's fucking cutting herself."

Several seconds passed with only the bangs of exploding fireworks and the crashing sound of the ocean waves.

"Fuck, man, I'm so sorry. And I – I hate to make it worse, but I think you should know – she _is_ cutting herself," Ryan told him quietly. He was shocked at her reason, though.

"We were actually gonna ask you to talk to her about it," Jay laughed emotionlessly.

"I did."

"What?"

"Yeah. I saw her wrist when we were playing chicken and so after dinner, I went to talk to her about it."

"Did my old man ask you to?"

"Uh, no, no. I just… took the initiative." Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. "Raped? You're sure?"

Jay nodded.

Ryan put his arm tightly around Jay's shoulders, and Jay didn't shy away.

"What the fuck am I gonna do?" he asked helplessly.

"I don't know, man," Ryan mused. "But you always figure it out. Every time. And those kids always pull through."

Jay swiped tears off his cheeks. He tried to force a laugh.

"And I'm here," Ryan continued. "And Lisa's here. And your dad." Ryan let go of Jay's shoulder and came around the front of him. He hugged his best friend tightly. "I know you always try to do everything alone, but I want you to know that you don't have to. You have people. Take advantage of that. Let us help you and Little Zee, okay? Please."

Jay nodded into Ryan's shoulder. "Thank you." His voice was small and sincere.

"No problem, man." Ryan rubbed the back of Jay's neck soothingly. "We're family, yeah? We're gonna figure it all out. She's gonna be okay. _You're_ gonna be okay."

* * *

"NATE!" Zoey screamed. "NATE, HELP ME! PLEASE!"

Her throat felt raw from shouting, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Walker was on top of her, slamming into her, humiliating and hurting her, taking every shred of dignity she had left.

The carpet burned her stomach like a fire.

"PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

"Zoey! Zoey, hey," Walker was saying, but the voice sounded so familiar. "Zoey! Wake up! Oh my god, wake up, come on. Zoey!"

Zoey blinked her eyes open and saw Jay over her. She was gasping for breath, but Jay pulled her up into his arms. "Okay, it's okay. You're fucking okay, I've got you. I've got you. It's okay now. Shhhh…"

It took Zoey a moment to realize she was sobbing. She wrapped her arms around Jay's neck, trying over and over again to press closer to him. Her eyes were squeezed shut in an attempt to block out the memories.

"Breathe… breathe, Zee," Jay murmured. "You're okay." He started slowly rocking her back and forth. She tried to speak, but he gently hushed her. "Catch your breath. Just catch your fucking breath. It's okay, I'm not goin' anywhere. I got you. I got you."

Zoey could feel the massive ache in Nate's chest. He must have heard her screaming and lost his shit. He didn't feel close by. Zoey was so sorry.

That was by far the most vivid of all the dreams Zoey had had since The Incident. She was heartbroken; she'd thought she was doing something good by opening up to her family, but it turned out, all she'd done was fuck everything up even more. They'd all been driven apart, and now they were all breaking.

"I can't – breathe," she she managed to get out. She clawed at her brother's shoulders.

"I know. Shh, Zoey, I know. Just relax… relax," Jay instructed calmly. He unlocked his phone with one hand and dialed a number. After it rang a few times, someone must have picked up, because Jay spoke. "Hey," he said softly. "I know it's almost two, but I really need you to come down here right now." A beat passed. "Yeah, she's… I don't know."

A quiet voice replied, and then Jay said, "No, just you. And not really, no, but we're trying. Thanks. Okay, see you soon."

Jay hung up, kissed Zoey's forehead, and continued to sway back and forth as she hyperventilated against his chest. "Shh, it's okay. It's okay. You're safe, Zee."

A handful of slow minutes passed, and Zoey's breathing calmed enough that Jay went out of the room to get her a glass of water. She scrambled for her scissors, but she wasn't fast enough.

Jay caught a glimpse of her shoving the scissors back into the drawer of her nightstand, and he raised his eyebrows worriedly. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I, um," she stuttered.

Jay handed her the glass of water and decided her to give her a pass. "If you want me to do your hair, we need the silver pair."

Zoey nodded, relieved.

"Come on, little monkey." Jay took her hand and led her into the kitchen. He flipped the overhead light on – it felt so bright as it flickered to life against the blackness outside.

A car pulled into the driveway, but Jay ignored it. He sat Zoey down in her chair and set to work combing her hair back. Zoey shivered slightly under his touch and closed her eyes.

"You want me to cut it how I usually do?" he asked.

"Leave it a little longer," she instructed softly.

"Okay."

Jay had just started snipping when Lisa walked in the front door. She looked a little surprised at how she found the siblings, but she just went with it. "Hey, you," she smiled at Zoey. She leaned down to kiss the younger girl on the cheek.

"Hi," Zoey replied. She sounded a little hoarse, and her eyes were pink.

"Are you getting a haircut right now? It's the middle of the night."

"We decided it was time," Jay replied amiably, but he gave her a look over Zoey's head that said _drop it._

"Okay, well," Lisa said, changing the subject as she dug in her purse, "I snuck some ice cream out of the freezer."

Zoey's eyes brightened a little as Lisa went to get a handful of spoons from the kitchen drawer.

"It's Rocky Road," Lisa explained.

"Yes!" Jay exclaimed, pumping his fist into the air. "Nate! Hey, Nate! Ice cream!"

"Shhhh!" Lisa protested. "It's two in the fucking morning! Don't wake him up for this!"

"Nobody's asleep," Jay noted.

"Yeah, he went outside when I woke up screaming," Zoey snorted. She faked a smile.

"Oh, honey," Lisa frowned. "Are you okay?"

Zoey shrugged, but she kept the attempt at a grin on her face. "Yeah, I guess. I think Nate officially hates me though." She shut her eyes to keep the tears in.

"That's exactly the opposite of what happened," Jay said softly, dropping his hand to her shoulder. "He loves you so much that he couldn't fucking handle it. That's not on you."

Zoey swallowed her emotions and nodded. "Can you keep going?" she asked Jay.

"Yeah."

Lisa sat down next to Zoey and opened the ice cream. Zoey delicately stuck her spoon in and swirled it around the top of the container, picking up the melted, milky edges. She was careful not to move her head – she'd learned that one the hard way when she was five.

Lock after lock of her hair fell to the floor around Jay's feet as she and Lisa silently ate the Rocky Road. Jay combed through Zoey's hair longer than necessary because he knew it felt like heaven to her. He kissed the top of her head when he was done.

A few minutes after he sat down in his seat at the table, Zoey's eyes started closing of their own accord. "Ohhhkay," Jay hummed. He stood up and lifted his sister up off her chair. She molded herself against his chest. "Don't leave?" Jay pleaded to Lisa.

"Of course not."

"Okay. I'm gonna put the little one to bed. I'll be right back."

Zoey made a sound like a kitten as she snuggled into her big brother. He carried her through the kitchen into her room and slid her feet under the rumpled covers. She buried her face in her pillow and let sleep overtake her.

He came back to the front room with Zoey's scissors in his hand. He was about to sit down with Lisa again when the front door opened quietly.

"Nate?" Jay called.

The younger boy followed the sound of Jay's voice into the kitchen.

Jay was about to ask if he was alright, but when Jay's eyes landed on him, he knew he was the opposite of okay.

"Whoa, hey," Jay murmured, quickly standing up and grabbing onto his little brother.

Nate clung to Jay in a way that Jay had forgotten about. He dug his fingers into Jay's shoulders as he breathed raggedly into the crook of his neck.

"I got you," Jay assured, rubbing Nate's back.

"'s all my fault," Nate whispered.

"No," Jay whispered back. "It's not your fault. Not at all."

"I was in the house," Nate argued, pulling back. "I was fucking here. I should have fucking stopped it."

"No. No. It doesn't work like that."

Jay's heart broke in two the minute he saw Nate's rib cage quake.

"She was fucking screaming for me and I didn't hear her. I didn't hear her…"

Through her sadness, Lisa was hit with a blast of memory – the night Zoey was drunk, she kept saying over and over, _he didn't hear me._ Zoey had been talking about _Nate._ Oh, god. It hit Lisa for the first time that everything Zoey said in her account really was true.

"Jay, I'm sorry," Nate apologized. His voice was so quiet that Jay had to strain in order to hear him. "It's all my fucking fault, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, buddy," Jay promised him. "This isn't anybody's fault but that fucking bastard who did this to her. You didn't hurt her. She loves you. She's not mad at you."

"She should be! I didn't stop it."

"How could you have known? Huh? What the fuck were you supposed to do? Go back in time and not get attacked so you didn't need your meds? Cause that wasn't your fault either."

Nate reached up and raked his nails down the sides of his face.

"Hey, stop," Jay instructed calmly, pulling Nate's hands back down to his sides. "Come here." He tugged his brother into another gentle hug and kissed his scratched temple. "Lisa brought some ice cream. Do you want any?"

Nate tiredly shook his head no. "Sorry," he said to Lisa, referencing his emotional outburst.

"It's okay, sweetie." She stood up and wrapped him in a hug as well.

She was much softer and smaller than Jay, and Nate welcomed the jasmine-y scent of her skin. Her hands were cool, even through his t-shirt. _This is what a mother should be like,_ Nate thought. And maybe someday, even someday soon, Lisa might really be his stepmother. Even though she wasn't that much older than him, he liked that thought. It was comforting. She made him feel safe.

"Jay's right; it's not your fault," she murmured into his shoulder.

Nate could only nod. He crossed the kitchen to grab some vodka from the freezer, and then he went to sit outside Zoey's door. There's no way he was sleeping after her jarring wake-up call. The least he could do was be prepared to wake her before the next one came. He tipped his head back against the wall, shut his eyes, and took a slow swig. He stood guard all night.


	22. Chapter 22

After her nightmare, Zoey became totally withdrawn again. She kept to herself and didn't speak.

Nate was going insane with guilt. Jay passionately threw himself into trying to get Zoey to come back out of her shell. His attempts ranged from moving Mary back into Zee's room to barging in to snuggle to quietly trying to talk to her, but nothing worked. She just silently looked at him, willing him to leave.

Every time, he'd sigh, whisper, "Okay," and shut the door behind himself.

He was snoring away after a long night of trying to figure out what to do when Nate let himself into Jay's bedroom and sat in his desk chair.

"Jay, wake up," he said softly. Then louder, "Jay, come on, get up."

His big brother stirred, breathing in slowly and nuzzling into his pillow.

Nate leaned forward and smacked his head.

"Hey," Jay groaned, putting a hand up to defend himself. "Easy. Gentle. Just fucking be gentle with your big brother now, come on."

"It's cut day, young man," Nate announced. "Lisa wants us at the weigh-in by 8:30, so get out of bed." He pulled the covers off of his brother, and Jay moaned in protest. "Come on," Nate urged.

Jay held up one finger. "Draw me a bath," he instructed, his voice still thick from sleep.

"Hot and salty," Nate affirmed. "Let's go."

Jay gave him a thumbs up and rolled over to face his brother. "Yea-yuhhhh," he grinned, sitting up and taking the mug filled with coffee that Nate offered him. "I love cut day," he mused, standing up.

"No, you don't," Nate reminded him.

"I do indeed. I find it very cleansing, Nate. Plus, I only got ten pounds, and I'm gonna poop out five of 'em right now."

Nate rolled his eyes.

"But Ryan… Ryan's fucked," he mused, taking a pull of the hot coffee.

"Yeah, what's he got?" Nate inquired.

"Mmm, twenty… twenty-five." He turned around to face Nate. "Fuck 'em."

Nate raised his eyebrows, smiling. "Fuck 'em," he repeated.

Jay took another sip of coffee and then announced in a terrible German accent, "Ve march!"

The 'marching' was only a few steps through the house to the bathroom. Nate followed him and held the mug as Jay shucked off his boxers and sank into the steamy bathtub.

"Hot, hot hot, hot… itchy balls, itchy balls, itchy balls," Jay hissed as he lowered himself into the water. He leaned back and stretched out as much as he could.

Nate sat down on the lid of the toilet as Jay pulled his sunglasses on.

"Jay, I gotta tell you something," Nate said.

"Can it wait perhaps?"

"No."

"Daddy's takin' a bath," Jay narrated.

"No, Jay, I gotta tell you now."

Jay turned his head to his brother. "What's up?"

Nate swallowed and then said, "I'm not – I'm not gonna press charges against those guys." Silence hung in the air for a moment before he added, "I called the detective this morning. I told him it's over."

Jay quietly mulled it over.

"Look, I – that shit's behind me now. I just wanna get back to training, and… I'm gonna tell Dad today."

Jay was motionless for so long that Nate thought he wasn't going to speak. He almost got up and left, but then Jay was removing his sunglasses and blinking at Nate.

"I think that's the best thing," Jay agreed.

Nate hung his head, surprised that Jay wasn't pushing him.

"I don't give a fuck about those guys," Jay explained, sensing Nate's confusion. "I give a fuck about _you_. The shit's behind us."

Nate stood, relieved but also eager to get away from the conversation. "Okay. Twenty more minutes in there, and then I'll get plastics and we'll run over to the gym, alright?"

Jay saluted. "Aye-aye, captain."

Nate left the room. Jay watched until his shadow had disappeared before he sank completely under the water. He blew a frustrated stream of bubbles up to the surface.

* * *

The Kulina boys burst into the gym the way they always did. Nate strutted through the front door like he owned the place, and Jay bounced in behind him like he was about to try to knock out the air.

Shelby was sorting through one of the boxes of protein powder and water bottles that had come in the mail, but she looked up when the door flew open. "Hey," she said.

Nate nodded at her.

"Buenos días, Shelby!" Jay said smoothly.

"Lisa wants to see you guys in her office," she called after them.

"Indeedy-greasy!" Jay yelled back. He pushed Lisa's door open without knocking. "What's up, lady?"

"Hi," she replied, faking a smile. She set a big cardboard box – not unlike the box Zoey had scrounged up for Mary (fuck, Zee had an accomplice) – on her desk and rushed over to the boys. "Can you shut the door?" Her eyes were desperate.

She noticed that Nate finally looked happy and calm, and she was disappointed that she had to drop more bad news on him. She stalled.

"How are you feeling?" she asked Jay.

"Wonderful. As I said, I have an easy fucking cut."

"Where's Wheeler?" Nate asked.

"He should be putting his plastics on, but we've got a bit of an issue." She let her anxiety take over her expression. "I don't know where your dad is."

Nate broke eye contact with her and looked at Jay. Lisa followed suit. When Jay was silent, Nate pressed her.

"What do you mean?"

"He was here earlier, but now he's just gone. I've been trying to call him, but he's not answering his phone."

Jay chuckled darkly, shaking his head. Fuck.

"Honestly, Jay," Lisa continued, "I'm not worried about you. But Ryan's got a _lot_ of hard work to do before the weigh-in."

"Hey," Jay comforted, ducking down a few inches to be at her eye level. "It's not a problem. Nate and I are gonna get the engine started – it's gonna be fine." At her nervous look, he repeated, "It's gonna be fine. We got you."

* * *

At a motel a few tows over, Alvey unloaded a grocery bag that contained a carton of orange juice and an assortment of alcohol. He poured himself a large screwdriver and toasted his reflection in the mirror. "Salute," he murmured, the Italian naturally flowing out of his mouth.

He downed the whole drink in one gulp, shook his head, and sat down on the bed. He rubbed his hands over his face, but he couldn't shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

"Twenty pounds. It's gotta happen," Nate told Ryan.

Ryan's jaw tightened. "You know, when I was in prison," he began, but Jay cut him off.

"Wait, hold on, hold on a second. You were in _prison_? Ho-ly shit, I did not know that! Nate, did you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard that once."

"Oh," Jay replied.

"From what I hear, he was very popular."

"I was, actually," Ryan supplied. "I was. People happened to enjoy my company. Now are you guys fucking finished? _Any_ way. When I was in prison, I once saw a guy slice a line across his forehead... and then dig his fingernails in under the flap... and peel himself... like a banana. Like a _banana_ , Nate." He paused and then started yelling. "That makes more sense to me then getting in that _fucking_ suit right now!"

Nate nodded. He spoke softly. "You know, some of us would love to be cutting weight today… but _some_ of us suffered a devastating injury and don't have the privilege."

Jay crossed the room to stand by his brother's side. He rubbed Nate's back as he dramatically whispered, "It's okay. It's okay, don't worry about it."

Ryan watched the display for a moment and then snapped, "Fuck you guys. Put me in the fucking suit."

Nate snorted a laugh.

* * *

"Call me back," Lisa said quickly into her phone. "Please. I'm starting to get worried."

She hung up and pushed open Alvey's office door. She was halfway through storming in when her eyes landed on Zoey. She stopped short. "Hey," she said, a little worried. "Are you okay?"

Zoey's mouth moved, but nothing came out. She cleared her throat. "Yeah," she answered. Her voice was raspy, as if she hadn't spoken in quite some time.

"Okay, good," Lisa said. "Can you help me with something?"

Zoey nodded, grateful to be given a task. She was going out of her mind with the urge to hurt herself, which was why she'd come down to the gym on cut day in the first place. She needed her brothers, no matter what state they were in. But this could at least keep her hands busy for a bit.

"We can't find your dad," Lisa told her. "So we have to try to figure out where he went."

"Okay." After a pause, Zoey added, "I like your shirt."

Lisa gave her a small smile, looking down at her pink tank top. It had cats on it, so of course Zoey liked it. "Thanks. Why don't you see if there's anything in his desk, and I'll take the file cabinet."

Zoey nodded, and the two set to work. Zoey sorted through papers and snacks as Lisa sifted through file after file on fighters and promoters. Who knew Alvey could be so organized?

"Uh, Lis?" Zoey said after a moment.

"Hm?" Lisa asked without turning around.

"Look."

Zoey had found one of Alvey's pill bottles. She gave it a shake to show Lisa that it was nearly full.

"Let me see that," she muttered. She dumped the pills onto the desk and counted them as quickly as she could. Then she glanced at the label. "Fuck."

"What?"

She shook her head. "It's completely full. He should have taken more than half of these by now."

Zoey sat back in the chair. "No wonder he's gone."

"Go get Jay," Lisa instructed.

Zoey didn't want to, she _really_ didn't want to, but at the look on Lisa's face, she knew she didn't have a choice. She pushed herself up out of the chair and let herself out of the room.

She found Jay with a jump rope, sweating up a storm with his sweatshirt hood pulled over his head. She went up behind him and tugged on his sleeve.

He stopped and turned around. When he saw it was her, he pulled the headphones out of his ears. "Hey, monkey," he panted.

"Something's wrong," she said shortly. It was just enough to get the direness of the situation across without having to say anything more. She led him to Lisa's office.

He saw the medicine lying on the desk and faltered. "That's not good," he said before Lisa even opened her mouth.

"There are 30 pills right here," she said, motioning to them, "and this is a prescription for 30. He should only have ten left. He must have stopped taking these weeks ago."

"Zee, go outside, babe," Jay murmured, his big brother tone kicking in.

Not wanting to bother him any further than she already had, she quickly did as she was told.

"He didn't tell you?" he asked after the door closed behind his sister.

"I should have known that something was wrong," Lisa muttered. "I mean, he's been drinking a lot, sleeping on the couch… we got in a huge fucking fight the night he came home from dinner with your mom. He's been… all over the place."

"You want me to call some hospitals?" Jay asked, his voice and eyes serious.

"No," Lisa said, faking a laugh. "No, I got this. You just focus on the cut. And keep Ryan on track, cause if he doesn't make weight, that's a whole nother shit show."

"Alright," Jay replied, heading for the door. His hand was on the knob, but before he turned it, he looked over his shoulder and added, "He did this to my mom a few times."

"That doesn't help. Thanks."

Jay smiled at her sass. "He's gonna show up," he promised. Then he lightened the mood by pulling on the collar of his sauna suit and teasing, "I'd give you a big reassuring hug to let you know that, but I don't think that-"

"Ohhh, I'm good."

Jay motioned to the door. "Open? Closed?"

"Closed," she sighed.

"Alright." He shut the door, but Lisa heard him yell, "Little monkey!" He must have hugged his sister instead of her, because she heard Zoey shriek. Lisa shook her head.

* * *

Jay's watch beeped, so he cooled down on the treadmill and then went to find Wheeler. Instead, he found Zoey playing Ninja in the cage with Nate and Mac.

"Mac. Kids. It's time," he announced. "Where's Wheeler?" He raised his voice to a yell. "Is he quittin' already?!"

"I'm up here, you dick," Ryan shot back quietly. He was pedaling a stationary bike upstairs.

"Warm up's over, Destroyer," Jay grinned. "The dragon is hungry."

Ryan rolled his eyes and headed downstairs to the locker room.

Zoey watched as her brother and his best friend stripped out of their plastics and down to their boxers. Jay stepped onto the weigh beam first, and Nate slid the plastic until it was even. "Seven over," he stated.

Jay nodded and stepped back off the scale. He sat down on the bench and put his arm around his sister. "Come on, champ," he said as Ryan took his turn on the scale.

"Fuck, seriously?" Wheeler asked as Nate moved the block around.

Nate looked a little nervous as he read Ryan's result. "Eighteen to go."

Jay made pained a face at Nate, so the middle Kulina went up to Wheeler. "Hey," he said, smacking Ryan on the side of his neck, "this too shall pass. Let's go."

Jay hopped off the bench and tossed Mac a pot of Vaseline.

Zoey drew her knees to her chest as Jay told the room, "The gentility of Mac's hands is not to be underestimated."

Zoey was about to speak when Ryan replied for her. "That's not the – that's not the word. Gentility's not the word you use."

Nate started coating Vaseline down Ryan's back in thick strokes and then came around to the front of him, momentarily pressing their foreheads hard together. It took a few minutes for Jay and Ryan to get their sauna suits back on. As Nate was taping down the cuffs of Wheeler's sleeves, he felt Zoey walking up to the ex-con.

"You can do it," she told Ryan softly.

When she leaned up to kiss his cheek, he smiled. "Thanks, Little Zee."

Then she went to Jay, who was lacing up his black All-Stars. She put her arms around his shoulders from behind. "I love you," she said simply, her form of an apology for acting so cagey.

"I love you, too. Come here." He pulled her sideways into a hug, which she returned. Apology accepted.

"You gonna lose the weight?" she asked when she pulled back.

"Fuck yeah."

She lightly hit his cheek. "Good."

A moment later, both boys were back on the jump ropes. Nate was yelling at them, hurling insults and overusing the word "pussy." Zoey rolled her eyes. It was only when Ryan and Jay headed for the sauna that the rest of the team got a break.

Zoey got back in the cage with Nate. "Come on, come on," she muttered. She hit him hard across the face.

"Wh – Zee, what the fuck?" he asked, his hand flying up to his cheekbone.

"Come on!" she encouraged, curling her newly shorter hair behind her ear. "Shake off the ring rust, let's go. I know I'm not a fighter, but I really wanna hit something."

"Oh, so you're gonna hit _me_?"

"Come on, motherfucker! You scared?"

Before she knew it, he'd loosened up and she'd gotten what she wanted; Nate slammed her up against the cage wall and punched her square in the mouth. Her lip split. She laughed as she spat out blood. "Fuck yeah," she murmured. It tasted so good on her tongue.

"You're bleeding," he said, stating the obvious, but she ignored him and rammed him in the stomach. "Stop. Zee-"

"Who gives a fuck? Come on! You're calling Jay and Ry pussies, but it's really you, isn't it?"

Nate shook his head and went after her. She ducked, making him work for it a little before she hit him in the face again. He stumbled back at the force of her punch – usually she did hit hard enough to bruise, but she never punched her brothers in the face. Something was up.

"You _are_ a fucking pussy," she taunted, pinkish blood smeared on her teeth. "Fucking _cunt_. Come on. You gonna let your little sister beat you up? Really?"

"Okay, you asked for it," he groused. He lunged at her, knocking her to the ground. Mac flinched as his knees hit, but neither Kulina was aware of anything except what the other was doing.

 _Hit me, hit me,_ she thought. She needed to feel the pain. And this was safe. This was allowed. No one could get mad at her for these marks, because she hadn't caused them. Nate had. He was helping her. She could get hurt without having to do it herself. But she was still in control, so it felt just as good.

She kept faking like she was trying to hit him as he straddled her hips so that he'd do all the work. She squirmed out from under him, but he flipped her onto her stomach and slammed her on the ground.

Fuck.

This wasn't okay anymore. He was on her back like Walker had been, pressing her into the floor. She tried to get out from under him, but just like with Walker, he was too heavy. He was too strong.

"Nate, stop," Zoey said, trying to keep her emotions in check. Her brother either couldn't hear her or chose to ignore her, because he smacked her on the side of the head again. "Stop, Nate! STOP!"

Flash. The dark burn from the carpet that had remained stained on her side for six days. Flash. Her choked screams for help. Flash. The kind of tired she'd never known, the kind that made her stop fighting. Flash. Her fingers touching the folds between her legs for the first time after what had happened. She was so sore, so sore...

She cried out again.

Nate was in his zone. He couldn't think. He'd been reduced to that savage, violent monster called Instinct that lived inside his chest. Little sister or not, he was going to take his opponent out.

But then Mac was grabbing Nate off his little sister, who had tears burning in her eyes.

"Zebra?" Nate asked, getting to his feet. "Hey, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

She scrambled up and ripped her gloves off, aggressively unhooking the cage and storming down the steps.

"Did I hurt her?" he asked Mac worriedly.

"No. You flipped her on her stomach and she freaked the fuck out."

Nate swallowed, eyes wide. Shit.

"I'm worried about her," Mac said quietly, looking after her as she slammed the front door shut behind her. "She's not fucking right."

"I know."

* * *

"Alright. I'm fucking ready," Ryan declared half an hour later, jogging into the locker room with Mac in his shadow.

"Let's do this!" Jay whooped.

Ryan stepped onto the scale first.

"Fifteen over," Nate said.

"Three pounds? That's all I've lost, three fucking pounds?" Ryan said angrily. His good mood instantly evaporated.

"Hey, focus. We're just getting started," Jay reminded.

"Focus?"

"You got plenty of fucking time, dude. We're gonna be good. I'm saying focus on us right now, don't worry about this." He pulled Nate off to the side. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Nate nodded.

Jay reached forward, brushing his fingers over the bruise forming on his cheek and the fresh cut on his forehead. "You're not supposed to be in the cage."

"I was with Zebra."

Jay did a double-take. "Zoey did this to you?"

Nate nodded. "Something's wrong with her, Jay. One second she was fine, and then she was begging me to hit her, and then she ran away."

Jay sighed, putting his hand on the side of Nate's neck. "I know. We'll figure it out, okay? Look, can you go talk to Lisa?"

"Yeah. Is she alright?"

"Just go keep her company," Jay said, avoiding the question.

"Hey Jay, where the fuck is your dad?" Ryan asked, his voice rich with anger.

"We don't know," Jay said slowly. "Why are you such a fucking _bitch_ when you cut, like you're the first person to ever do it?"

Nate nodded silently in agreement.

Ryan dropped his shoulders. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Well-put," Nate said to Jay under his breath.

Jay gave him a light punch in the chest. "Mac and I got this."

"I'm sorry, man," Wheeler repeated.

"Ay, you're barking at me like I'm a fucking – goddamn mailman," Jay told him, grabbing the Vaseline from Mac and rubbing Ryan's back. "Take it easy. You know Daddy loves you with this firm fucking ass." He spanked him for emphasis.

"Come on, man, not right now," Ryan moaned.

"Relax," Jay said.

* * *

Nate found Lisa smoking on the bench under the Navy Street sign. "Can I have one?" he asked, motioning to the cigarette.

"That's not even funny," she shot back as he sat down.

"How you feeling?"

Lisa took a second to figure out what to say. "Your dad just texted me. He says he's okay, that he's safe. Obviously this is a really fucked up thing to do, but it's not… entirely his fault."

Nate looked at her sideways.

"I don't know if Jay or Zee told you, but he stopped taking his medication."

"No, they didn't," he said softly. He looked away, staring at the cars parked in a line down the curb. "Why would he stop? I thought it was helping."

"I know. I did too. He just did it."

Nate sat up straighter and wiped his hands on his shorts. At his angry expression, Lisa jumped to Alvey's defense. "You know, he's got a lot on his mind. The fight's here, and all the shit with your mom… He's worried about you, he's _really_ upset about what happened to your sister-"

In the tangled mess of confusion surrounding his family, Nate decided to be the one to say what needed to be said. "You should leave him. You don't deserve this shit. I know he's got problems, but he – he could help himself, he just chooses not to."

"No… Nate… I'm sorry. We're gonna work it out."

"Why?" Nate asked, exasperated. "I mean, what's to work out? What are _you_ getting out of this anymore?" He loved Lisa to death, but it wasn't worth it to see her eyes losing their light. She needed to get out before Alvey sucked the soul out of her.

Lisa was trying to stay calm. "I love him. And, I love you guys. And-" She abruptly stood. " _Fuck_ , Nate, I can _not_ have this conversation with you right now. Can you just please go inside and help them?"

Nate recognized the lashing out – it was the same thing Zoey did when she was in pain. Instead of listening to what Lisa had asked, he stood up and wrapped his arms around her. She melted tiredly into the hug.

Nate shut his eyes as he held Lisa to him. She was soft and cool like always, even after sitting in the summer sun. She smelled like cigarette smoke instead of her usual jasmine, but she was even more _Lisa_ that way.

Nate loved her, he really did. Jay had loved her for as long as he'd known her, and Zoey loved her now more than ever. So Nate told her. He mumbled, "We love you, Lisa."

She looked after him sadly as he tucked his hands into his pockets and retreated back inside.

* * *

The sauna was so hot that it felt impossible to speak correctly. The words trickled out of both fighters' mouths like molasses.

"This guy I'm fighting, Rynders – he's a fucking beast. He's like. His tape is sick. He's just tearing through guys."

"Yup. But you know what? He's not gonna tear through you. Nah. You're gonna send him back to fucking Florida with his dick in a knot."

Ryan smiled. "I admire you, Jay."

"I'm an admirable man, Mr. Wheeler."

"I'm serious. The way you live? I don't know how you're still sane. Cause I'm not. I think I'm out of my fucking mind."

"You're not. You're doing good. The fact that you haven't had your head spin off – that's a victory."

"I think it's just stuck on really tight." He paused. "I'm still in love with Lisa. Probably even more now. She still has my ring. Did she tell you that?"

Jay shook his head slowly.

"It's hard moving on. I shouldn't have had to. If I got something good, I'm not backing off. It's… nothing against your dad, it's just… it's just how I feel."

* * *

Even through the overwhelming feelings, Zoey found her way back to Jay's house. She banged through the front door and dropped to her knees on the carpet where Wheeler had fucked her.

"It's not real," she whispered to herself as her fingers brushed over the ground. "It's not real, it's not real, it's not real…"

She took a moment to let the emotions course through her – the want for pain, the want for comfort, for sleep, for death. She bowed her head and laid her hands over her face. Then she went to stand in front of the mirror.

Nate had split her lip pretty thoroughly. She liked the way it looked on her. She had three bruises blooming across her face already, and she liked those, too. She looked tough as fuck. She pressed on all of them, her nails digging into each harder than the last. And then she forced herself to put her hand down and stare at herself like an outsider would.

She looked like a victim of domestic violence, if she was being honest with herself. This couldn't continue, these outward outbursts. Her rage needed to stay hidden. Her pain needed to stay hidden. Ryan was _wrong._ Secrets are better than the truth. The truth hurt everyone around her. This was better. So, so much better.

She dismantled one of her razor blades and sliced into her upper thigh. Yes. She could do this. It wasn't the same the rush she got from cutting with scissors on her wrist, so close to that vein that everyone says kills you if you hit it the right way, but it was the same pain. As long as she had the pain, she could keep her mouth shut. She could survive as long as she could make herself hurt.

Silence and smiles. That was the only way to keep her family from falling apart.


	23. Chapter 23

"Eleven over."

"What the _fuck_ , man?!"

Jay and Ryan were the only ones in the locker room this time – Nate had gone to see if he could find Zoey, and Mac was rummaging around looking for more supplies.

"You're halfway there, man, come on," Jay urged.

"Fuck!"

"Halfway there."

"Where the fuck is Alvey, man?" Ryan asked for the thousandth time.

"Dude. Alvey's dealing with some shit."

"Oh. I'm sorry. _He's_ dealing with some shit? Wrong fucking answer, man! I'm in fucking hell!"

"No, you're in a fucking sauna is what you are. He's dealing with real shit. Emotionally. I think you're somebody who could appreciate that. And if you wanna be real fucking honest with yourself, you're probably a part of that."

"Me? Jay, I didn't even want to fucking be here. He _begged me_ to be here. He said that he had a plan, and then he fucking punked out! I have a real fucking problem with this, man, he should be here! He's my fucking coach. This isn't the way it's supposed to be."

"I fucking get it! Bitch, bitch, bitch! _I get it!_ Why don't you focus on your fucking cut?! This is what we do. If it was fucking easy? _Everybody would do it._ But you're a champion, Wheeler. I want you to focus on this fucking cut. This is what we fucking do. Do you want this? Step up."

"I think I just need some air, man," Wheeler breathed. "I just need to take a break, get some air, and then we'll go back in."

"No air," Jay urged. "Let's just go inside."

"No no no," Ryan groaned.

"You know what your opponent's doing right now? He's sweating! He's losing weight! He's working fucking hard! But he's not a champion – he's not the fucking Destroyer! He's not Ryan Fucking Wheeler, CHAMPIONNNN OF THE WORRRRRLD! You got this, dude. This is what we fucking do, every fucking day."

Ryan let out a primal yell.

Seeing that he'd broken through, Jay snapped out of pep talk mode. "Put your fucking pants on. Let's cruise."

Ryan stopped screaming. "Where's m – where's my fucking pants?"

* * *

Nate had been fucking around in the cage again, and he had the throbbing pain to prove it. Mac was wrapping up his knee, but Nate was pissed, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "I need some help," he demanded. He was determined to get Mac to give him what he wanted.

Mac shook his head tiredly. "Don't ask me this."

"I just need to speed up the recovery, alright?"

"I'm not giving you any HGH, Nate."

"Why not?" Nate asked, shrugging out of frustration.

"Because. You're doing fine."

He shot back, "Yeah, but I could be doing better." Nate dropped his voice and leaned forward. "Look, if I don't get it from you, I'm gonna get it from somebody else." It was a mean con, but it was all Nate could come up with. He hated playing with people's affection for Alvey's golden boy, but what choice did he have?

Mac stared at him, resigned.

"Mac, I just need a push. My window is closing."

"Bullshit," Mac interrupted, "you're fine." He pushed Nate back into his chair, but the Kulina boy immediately leaned forward again.

"See, no, that's not how it is. At my level, if you go this long between fights, people _fucking_ forget about you overnight." He quickly calmed himself and put the puppy face back on. "Okay? I need to do everything I can to get healthy."

* * *

Three hours later, Jay closed himself in Alvey's office and dialed his dad's number. He yanked a Navy Street t-shirt down over his head while the phone rang, and then he picked it back up when it went to voicemail.

"Hey, Dad, I just, uh. I just wanted to call and give you an update. The, um, the weigh-in's at nine, so, um. So we're gonna be leaving in a few minutes."

Jay wandered through the office, staring at all his father's old medals and trophies. He swallowed as he tried to ignore his reflection in the glass.

"Ryan made weight. It was fucking brutal, but he bitched and moaned and pushed through, so, so… so everything's on schedule. And I made weight. Yeah. Uh… I saw Nate sparring today. Looked pretty good. He and Zee beat each other up, I guess, cause they both got… bruises and shit." He huffed a laugh. "Nate was a little gimpy, but, uh, but I think he's gonna be back soon. Yeah, so that's uh, that's the good news."

Jay knew he's said "uh" several times, which wasn't usually like him. It was partly because of worry for his father, but also partly because he still got nervous talking to him.

"I hope you're hearing this," Jay said, wrapping up. He decided to go with some honesty. "I don't know where you are, but I hope you're alright."

* * *

Late that night, Lisa dropped her keys unceremoniously on the counter. She poured herself a drink and then headed for the room she shared with Alvey. She clicked the lamp on and was surprised to see a person lying in her bed.

At first glance, she thought she was looking at Alvey's dark hair, but then she noticed how much smaller the body was.

"Zee?"

Zoey turned over, blinking up at her. She hadn't been asleep, but she did look pretty tired. "Hey, sorry. Do you want me to-"

"No, stay," Lisa interrupted. "I could use the company."

Zoey nodded. She could, too.

"I'll be right back." Lisa went to the bathroom and quickly took off her makeup. She pulled on a soft, oversized t-shirt and a pair of cotton underwear and then went back to join Zoey in bed.

"How was the weigh-in?" Zoey asked. Her voice was soft, which made her sound like Nate.

"Good," she replied. "They both made it."

The corners of Zoey's lips quirked up, and she let her eyes fall shut.

Lisa couldn't help but reach out to run her fingers over the bluish bruise on Zoey's temple. The girl's bottom lip was split down the middle, and her whole mouth looked a little swollen. "What the fuck happened to you?" she asked sadly.

"Fucking around in the cage with Nate."

" _Nate_ did this?" she asked incredulously.

Zoey looked at Lisa, taking in the angry, protective expression on her face. She blinked and then clarified. "I asked him to spar with me, and it got a little rough. He's my brother. It happens."

Lisa nodded, but she didn't fully believe it. "I'm worried about you," she admitted, stroking a piece of Zoey's hair off of her face.

Zoey swallowed, unsure of what she was supposed to say. "I'm okay."

Lisa nodded again. "Well, I'm gonna worry anyway. I'm here for you, alright? Always."

Zoey shifted over a few inches in the bed and reached out to hug Lisa. It was the first physical contact they'd had since Zoey's confession. Lisa breathed slowly, focusing on the fact that Zoey was again wearing long sleeves. It was July in Santa Monica – this wasn't right. She was about to say something about it when Zoey pulled away and startled her with a heavy question.

"Are you gonna marry my dad?"

Lisa raised her eyebrows. "Um. No, Zee, I don't think so."

Zoey cocked her head. "Why not?"

Lisa got comfortable in her pillow and sighed. "I don't know. We talked about it… I think he wanted to, but… I don't think I'm really the marrying type."

Zoey nodded, taking it in.

"Also, now that your mom's back, things are more complicated"

"He hates her," Zoey told her. "Even more than he hates Jay. A _lot_ more than he hates Jay. He won't get back with her."

Lisa was about to explain that Alvey loved Jay and that the issue wasn't with Christina as a person but more with getting divorce papers signed without upending their lives when her phone started ringing. She sat up to answer it.

When she didn't say hello, Zoey figured it was her dad on the other end.

"Hey," Alvey finally said, his voice sounding tinny to Zoey's ears as it came through the phone.

There was a long pause before Lisa asked, "Where are you?"

"I'm, uh. I'm at the Sunset Hawaiian. It's east somewhere."

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah."

It killed Zoey that Lisa had to ask that, but she was glad the answer was yes.

"You're really scaring me, Alvey." Lisa swallowed. "Do you want me to come get you?"

"Wait, wait," he said, "I need to know something."

"What?"

"Do you still love me?"

Lisa was silent, and after a moment, Alvey hung up. Lisa fired a text to Jay to let him know Zoey was safe, switched her phone to silent, and flipped the light off. She and Zoey lay quietly for a minute before the younger girl said, "If you married him, I'd be happy."

Lisa turned to her in the dark. "Really?" she asked, surprised. Here she had Nate on one hand telling her to leave Alvey, and now she had Zoey wanting them to get married on the other. These kids. Their hearts were too damn big for their own good.

"Yeah," Zoey said. She reached down and clasped Lisa's hand, and Lisa remembered seeing her do the same thing to Nate. She wrapped her fingers around Zoey's. It hurt remembering all the time they'd ignored Zoey because they thought she was just being a teenager. It hurt just as badly remembering when Nate came over and refused to leave her side. Neither Lisa nor Alvey had believed him when he repeatedly told them that something was really wrong with his little sister.

"I know you're fighting right now, and I know he's been an asshole these last couple weeks, but you two were, like. Made for each other. Plus, you're like my cool older sister," Zoey told her.

Lisa could hear her smile through the darkness. The admission was truthful and kind, and any other person would have smiled back or even laughed. But Lisa was suddenly struck with sadness.

Zoey was comfortable with the silence after her sentence because she was used to telling her secrets to Nate, who wasn't exactly liberal with words. But when there was a sniffle a moment later, Zoey immediately grew concerned. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm alright," Lisa said quickly, the white lie tripping easily off her tongue. "Just, that caught me off guard is all. You're really sweet." She let a moment of quiet pass as she thought about her big sister. Lisa missed her every day. "Win or lose, tomorrow's going to be a long day. Get some rest, yeah?"

"Can I sleep in here? I promise I don't snore."

"Of course," Lisa chuckled. "I know you don't."

Zoey was hesitant, but she proceeded regardless. "I love you."

Lisa softly cleared her throat. "I love you, too."

* * *

"Hey, hey!" Nate declared the next morning. He saw Jay at the picnic table outside and brought him a generous helping of oatmeal in his favorite orange, plastic bowl. "It's chow time."

Jay gratefully accepted the bow, staring at the place where he'd taped the cut on his forehead together. His eyes traced a line down to the angry purple bruise on his cheek.

"How you feeling?" Nate asked, ignoring the gaze.

"Aw, man. I'm feeling robust," Jay drawled.

"You get some sleep?"

"Ten hours."

"Alright, good," Nate said. "You'll be able to take a nap later, too."

"This is excellent!" Jay noted, his mouth full of oatmeal.

"It's good shit, right?" Nate smiled.

Jay nodded and swallowed. "What time do we have to be at the arena?"

"Uh, four o'clock if you wanna do the walk-through."

"Roger that."

"Second fight out!"

"Yeah, mmm."

"You want some eggs?" Nate asked.

"Yeah. But we don't have any."

"I went to the store. Who loves you?" he grinned. "Hey, um. Did you hear anything from Dad?"

Jay shook his head. "Nope."

"What about Zebra?"

"Lisa said she stayed with her at Alvey's last night."

Nate nodded. "Okay." He disappeared into the house and went scramble some eggs.

* * *

"What's up?" Mac asked as Jay motioned him over. They were back at the gym, getting ready to leave and hoping Alvey might show. Jay was being just as silly as normal, trying to keep the mood light.

"I will be hosting the post-fight party at Casa de Kulina this evening. It's gonna be a very special night. And win or lose, I've been a good boy. But this behavior will abruptly conclude this evening."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I would like everything that gets me high, low, and in between. I want to wake up tomorrow and remember shit that didn't happen, Mac, so whatever you got that does that, I will put it inside of me."

"It's gonna be one of those nights," Mac grinned.

"Oh, yes, it's going to be one of those nights." He turned to Ryan. "Oh, yeah! Except for you. Not you. Because you're on parole."

Wheeler flipped him off.

Zoey and Lisa came in, dressed almost identically in jean capris and flowy black tank tops. Jay wondered if they knew. "Hey, ladies!" he called.

Zoey smiled and walked over to the guys. "Hi!" She sat down on the rug between Ryan and her brother. Jay reached for her chin, and she rolled her eyes as he inspected her skin.

"You two really did a fucking number on each other yesterday, huh?" Wheeler asked.

"Jay, I'm _fine,_ " Zoey supplied, ignoring Ryan and pushing Jay's hand off her face.

"Yeah, okay," Jay said sarcastically, looking over at his best friend. "Yin and yang aren't so peaceful anymore."

"We weren't fighting. We were just sparring," Zoey insisted.

"That's not sparring," Jay said darkly, running his thumb over the dark groove in her lip.

She batted his hand away and mustered a laugh. "You know how we are."

He pressed a kiss to her bruised temple, the signal that he was letting her drop it.

Mac was watching the exchange nervously. Zoey was smiling too brightly, but at least she was smiling, right? That seemed to be how Jay saw it, but Mac had taken a few required psychology courses, and he knew that something was really up.

Within a few minutes, Nate and Lisa had joined the pack. The Kulina siblings were sitting on the floor, joking back and forth as they helped Jay pack up his bag. Jay reached out to swat Zoey, and immediately a three-way smacking war broke out, complete with enthusiastic swearing and loud laughter. Behind them, Lisa and Ryan were talking about some new energy drink that had been released. "You know you owe me twenty bucks," Lisa reminded him.

It was Nate that saw Alvey first, and then Ryan. Nate reached out and silenced his siblings, and at the quiet, Lisa looked up. All five of them were silent, intensely watching the patriarch as he headed toward them.

"Can I talk to my fighter, please?" he asked softly.

Zoey and Jay glanced at each other as Ryan headed across the mat toward Alvey. When the two men came back out, Nate was lying on his back on the ground arguing with Lisa over who was going to win the bantamweight, and Jay was French braiding Zoey's hair.

"Alright, everybody out. Go home," Alvey commanded. "I'll see you all tonight."

* * *

"Is Jay still asleep?" Nate asked Christina as she walked outside to him.

"Yeah, the door's shut," she said, looking a little uncomfortable.

"I'll probably get him up pretty soon," Nate said, for the sake of something to talk about. It was always so awkward with Christina. "Zoey's coming to the fight with Lisa later, so we don't have to worry about her running off somewhere," he joked.

A few seconds of uncomfortable silence passed.

"Should I make some food for the party?" Christina offered.

Nate couldn't help the grin that formed on his face. "It's not that kind of party," he told her.

She noticed he was packing beer can after beer can into an ice chest. She stared him down.

"What?"

"Show me your arms."

Nate didn't understand the question, but he immediately went on the defense. "Why?" It should be Zoey that was receiving these inquiries, not him.

"Come on, Nate," she insisted, walking quickly around the picnic table and grabbing at his wrist, "show me your arms."

"Mom, what the fuck?" he asked, stepping back out of her reach.

She dug in her pocket and produced the orange cap of the needle Nate had used that morning. "I found this in the bathroom. What are you using?"

"Nothing," he lied.

"Come on," she said, faking a laugh, "who are you talking to here? You took forever in the bathroom this morning, and I heard you rustling around. What are you taking? Is it – is it oxy?"

"Oxy?" Nate repeated. "No, it's not oxy. It's HGH, okay? It's to help my recovery. It's really not a big deal."

"Well you have to be careful with that stuff," she told him, faking authority. "Your dad started in on that stuff, and it got super expensive. And people don't even know very much about it. Some people think it grows cancer!"

Nate nodded at her, willing her to shut up. "Kay," he murmured. "It's temporary. I promise." He took the cap from her hand. "Could you please not tell Jay and Dad?" He wasn't too worried about Zee finding out – it wouldn't scare her, and she wouldn't spill.

Christina took a moment to consider. Then she shrugged. "It's your thing. Just be careful."

Nate sighed after she vanished back into the house. He cracked open one of the beer cans and drank.

* * *

Zoey was asleep in her room at the big house that afternoon when Alvey came back. Lisa went downstairs to meet her boyfriend. He was slumped in one of the patio chairs with dark circles under his eyes. She came out dressed for the fight and poured herself a drink. Alvey looked older than she remembered.

"I'm sorry," he said. He nodded, unsure what else he could offer her.

"I know it's not completely your fault, but it was _really_ fucked up."

He nodded again. "I know, yeah." He cleared his throat. "No excuses. I'm gonna go see Dr. Kramer and, you know. Get me something I can live with. There are options." Looking at her face, he added, "If you wanna tear me apart, you should go ahead and tear me apart."

"I don't want to tear you apart. It's fucking exhausting." She shook her head. "You know what the worst part about last night was? I didn't miss you."

Alvey raised his eyebrows, trying to appear nonchalant but just looking sad.

"I was worried," she continued, "and scared, but I didn't miss you. Zee was over, and she slept in our room with me. She said she wanted you and me to get married. But… I don't want it anymore."

"Are you leaving me?" he inquired softly.

"I think you want me to."

Alvey's eyes widened, but he didn't counter her words.

She shook her head, disgusted. "See? Yeah. I can't be here right now. I'll see you at the fight."

* * *

Alvey made sure to be the first one at the arena. He didn't want another awkward interaction with his family like the one at the gym earlier that day. He hated the way they stared at him like they were all afraid of him again. He couldn't have that a second time.

Lisa and Zoey walked in – Lisa was in a tight pencil skirt and the same see-through top she'd had on at the house, and Zoey was wearing a flowy green dress and walking strongly in a pair of Lisa's high heels. Zee hovered around Nate, enjoying the fact that for once, she was taller than him. She kept smiling and standing up as straight as she possibly could, which was all fun until Nate stepped up on one of the benches and stared down at her with his hands in his pockets.

"Hey!" Zoey pouted.

"Hey!" Nate mimicked.

Zoey crossed her arms across her chest.

"Ay, knock it off, kids," Jay said, but he was glad to see them getting along. They were both sporting twin blue bruises and crimson cuts, but the teasing made Jay feel like things were back to normal.

Lisa and Alvey were speaking coldly to each other; Nate watched them with a close eye. Ryan was devoid of personality, his nerves eating him inside out. Jay, on the other hand, was relaxed. Cool. Confident. Nate was proud of his brother, and he hadn't even done anything yet.

"Here's how it's gonna go," Alvey said, and Nate took a seat on the bench he'd been standing on. Zoey sat next to Nate, their hips and shoulders pressed together. The mock fight was already forgotten. "Jay, you're up first. Ninety minutes out, we'll wrap your hands. Forty-five, we'll start the warm-up. When they're ready for us, they'll knock on the door. You'll be on deck. Same for both of you," he said, looking to Ryan.

Jay downed the shot of Five Hour Energy that Lisa passed him, and then he went to stand in front of Nate, shadow boxing at him.

"Nate, you're gonna be in Jay's corner. Ryan, I'll be with you. Questions? Anybody need anything? We good?"

Ryan shook his head, and Jay followed suit.

"Alright, let's go do the walk-through before the crowd gets here. Nate, I want you to come."

Zoey and Lisa trailed behind the boys, following them out to the ring. They took seats in the 100 section, watching as Jay and Ryan jumped around in the cage. Zoey felt Nate's discomfort as Alvey was lecturing him about something. She gave him a light smile, but he didn't catch it.

"Jay said you were working a bit," Alvey mused at him.

"Yeah, a little bit."

"And you fucking beat up your kid sister?"

Nate huffed and rolled his eyes. _It wasn't like that_ , he wanted to say, but what was he supposed to tell Alvey? That she taunted him until he hit her? Yeah, that wouldn't raise any red flags. Not at all.

"How's the knee holding up?" Alvey asked.

"It's good."

"Really? Jay said you were 'gimpy.'"

"I was sore. I'm working it out. It's fine."

"Okay, well don't rush it, okay? You're ahead of schedule."

Nate made a face. "You're the one telling me to get back at it."

"I push you so you know what's at stake, and now you're ahead of the game" Alvey told him. "You need to be patient. You're not desperate. You have no fuck-ups. I don't ever want to see you fight for your life. These two guys?" He pointed up at Wheeler and Jay. "There's no room for error. I mean, they have a chance, but they gotta pop _now_ if they wanna run for something big, you know? You're young, man. You don't need to live in chaos. You don't even know what kind of fighter you are yet. Alright?"

Nate looked pleadingly across the arena at Zoey.

"Come on, let's let these guys have the ring," Alvey said, and he pulled Nate back the way they'd come, draping his arm over his son's shoulders.

Zoey caught her brother's eye and started to stand up, but Nate shook her off. It was too late.

Zee sat back down next to Lisa and watched her oldest brother joke around with his best friend.

"You think they ever make out?" Lisa joked conspiratorially.

Zoey snorted. "Probably. Knowing Jay."

As if on cue, the two men embraced tightly. Jay was beaming.

Lisa rolled her eyes.

"Uh, I'm gonna," Zoey stammered as she suddenly stood up and quickly walked away. "I'm gonna go find Nate."

"What?" Lisa asked her, but then Christina was coming over and filling the chair her daughter had just vacated.

The two women sat in an uncomfortable silence until Christina asked, "Is it hard for you to watch this?"

"No," Lisa answered. "I'm used to it."

"I can't do it," Christina told her. "Every time they get hit, I just die."

Lisa nodded. "Well, I'm sure it would be different if it were my _child…_ "

The silence fell again. Zoey was leaning up against the cage, talking to Ryan and Jay, who had both squatted down by where she was standing.

"You know, all my children love you," Christina told Lisa. "Both my boys have so much respect for you… they talk about you constantly. And it sounds like my daughter is glued to your side. I'm sorry about that, by the way. But they all have so much respect for you."

"I love them, too. Very much." It bothered her, the way Christina talked about Zoey.

"They way they all talk about you, I was like, god, shut up. But then I got curious, and I was like, who is this fucking woman?"

Lisa snorted softly.

"But now I see what they mean. You've got a lot going on."

"That's nice of you to say."

"You know, I think maybe you have the wrong idea about me," Christina told her.

"What idea do you think I have about you?" Lisa inquired. "I've never said anything."

"You think I abandoned my children," she muttered, looking out at where Jay was laughing.

Lisa followed her gaze, and shifted uncomfortably. Christina was right – Lisa _did_ think that. But so did Alvey, and so did the kids. No matter what had actually caused Christina to leave, she _had_ left. And it certainly felt like abandonment to the family she'd disappeared from.

"It's a regret," Christina continued. "Every day, I wake up every morning and I can't believe I could have done that."

Lisa rolled her eyes, frustrated that this woman was trying to invalidate her own children's pain. "I'm sorry, what do you want from me?" she asked.

"Nothing," Christina replied, confused.

"I don't even understand why you're talking to me." She narrowed her eyes. "Were you trying to make Zee upset?"

"I'm sorry?"

"It's no secret something's up with you about her." Lisa shook her head. "Did you come over here just to make her feel uncomfortable?"

"Well, there's no good conversation for us to have," Christina sighed, avoiding the questions.

"Mm," Lisa hummed absently. She tried to conceal her annoyance.

"I just want you to know that I respect you. I've been through all the shit you're in, and it sucks. And you're already doing it better than me."


	24. Chapter 24

Nate smacked loudly on a piece of spearmint gum as he sparred with Jay in the locker room. Zoey sat on a bench between Joe Daddy and Lisa as they all watched the oldest Kulina sibling hop around, punching the pads. Christina was anxiously pacing back and forth, and Alvey was watching her, annoyed.

The door banged open. "Jay," the guy said, "you're on deck."

"Okay," Nate said, shaking the pad off his hand. "Here we go!"

"Fuck him up, man," Ryan muttered to Jay, his gray sweatshirt hood tucked over his head. He wrapped both his hands around Jay's neck and pressed their foreheads together. "You got this. You're gonna murder this fucking kid."

He stepped back, and Lisa moved forward. She undid the clasp on her athlete's necklace. "You want me to fight him for you?" she asked softly.

Jay snorted a gentle laugh, imagining that.

"You're magic," she continued. "You were born to do this." She tucked the jewelry into his shorts and murmured, "I love you."

Jay turned to Christina, who looked so nervous that she was turning pale. "Mom," he said, laughing a little. "Come on. Stop."

She stood up and hugged him as though he were going to war. "I love you, I love you, I love you," she told him desperately. "I'll be back here."

Zoey took her turn. She stood on her tiptoes to squeeze Jay around the neck. He lifted her off the floor and then set her back down. "Knock his fucking teeth out," she grinned.

He pointed at her. "No flashing anybody!"

"Shut the fuck up," she giggled.

He kissed the top of her head and then went up to his father.

Alvey put his hands lightly on his eldest child's shoulders. "It's your cage," he told Jay, "your fight. You just go take it. Alright?" They embraced for half a second and then both let go.

Jay dashed out the door, followed by Nate and then Lisa and Zoey, who were holding hands. Joe Daddy brought up the rear.

Nate gave Jay a big hug before he got his gloves and mouth guard checked and performed his signature forward roll into the cage. Jay took a moment to bounce, getting a feel for the floor, and then he crouched down in front of his kids and wove his fingers through the netting. Nate and Zoey were both sporting wide grins. Lisa slung her arm around Nate's waist and squeezed. Jay smiled back at his family, ready to give them a show. He crossed his heart at Zoey and then turned back to watch his opponent enter the cage.

"Alright, gentlemen!" Beltran yelled. "First round! You ready to fight? You ready to fight? Go, let's go!"

"Come on, Jay, you got this!" Lisa cheered.

The guy threw two tame punches, but Jay wanted a real fight. He landed a hard fist against the guy's temple, and then did exactly the same thing again. Within a second, he had his opponent backed up against the cage. He lifted him into the air, and Nate and Zoey sprang to their feet in perfect sync, both screaming encouragement at their big brother.

Jay slammed the other fighter onto the ground and immediately landed on him, throwing punch after punch to keep the guy down.

"I'm gonna stop it," Beltran said quickly. "Over! Over! It's over!"

"YEAH!" Zoey screamed, punching the air as the loud bell rang.

Jay rolled off the guy and flung his arms up victoriously.

Nate threw his arms around his little sister. "HE DID IT!" Zoey hugged him back so tightly that it hurt.

Lisa grabbed onto the Kulina kids and jumped up and down. "Fuck yeah!"

"JAY!" Nate shouted as his big brother launched himself onto the wall. "JAY!"

Lisa tossed his sunglasses up over the cage, and they landed in Jay's waiting hands. He proudly stuck his tongue out, shoved them onto his face, and took a victory lap. Nate, Lisa, and Zoey all laughed and clapped as they watched him parade happily around the cage – _his_ cage.

When the announcer came up with the microphone, Jay grabbed it and yelled, "That was for you, baby!" He was pointing at Zoey. She beamed. Nate hugged her from behind, and Lisa pressed a kiss to her temple.

He'd won in the first round – barely forty seconds into the fight! – and he'd dedicated it to Zoey. She felt so happy. She wanted to freeze this moment and stay in it forever, but soon, it was Ryan's turn in the ring.

"This is your fight, this is your fucking fight," Jay told Wheeler, circling his arms around him and pulling him into a long hug.

But Jay was wrong; Ryan's fight against Matt Rynders was a mess. It was long and slow and disheartening. Wheeler was bleeding from a cut just over his eye, which stung and made it hard to see. Rynders packed a hard punch.

The fight finally ceased when Ryan snapped a bone somewhere in Rynders' upper body. His Navy Street family cheered loudly for him, and Alvey was immediately in the cage, getting a big, sweaty hug. Jay bowed down to his best friend, who laughed at him and teasingly grabbed him in a headlock.

Zoey and Lisa stood off to the side, watching all the boys congratulate each other.

* * *

"Hey!" Alvey grinned when Ryan came through the locker room door. The fighter was clothed and bandaged. "They fix you up?"

"Yeah, they took care of me." Ryan passed him a beer bottle.

"Thank you. That was a hell of a fucking fight. You're a fucking warrior. Truly."

"Well, you gave me a killer game plan. You were right about _everything_."

"It doesn't mean anything unless you execute it. It's the fighter, it's not the coach." He took a long sip of his beer.

"You going to Jay's?" Wheeler asked.

"Nah, fuck 'em. You kidding me? No way."

There was a moment of quiet as the two men drank. Then-

"I wanna keep this going with you and me," Ryan blurted.

"Let's not talk about that now," Alvey said, letting him down gently.

"No, really, man. We, uh, we got a good thing. You're my coach, Alvey. I was really fucking pissed off when you didn't make the cut, but, you know, when I left you, you took me back. You were a man about it. So… one for me, one for you. Now we're even." They clinked their bottles together.

"I appreciate it," Alvey murmured. He watched as Ryan drank. "You know, you took a couple shots to the head, so maybe we should give it a few days."

Zoey pushed into the locker room and then faltered when she saw Ryan.

"Hey, babe," Alvey said.

"What's up?" Ryan asked.

"Oh, um. Daddy, they wanna grab you for an interview."

"Alright, tell 'em I'll be right there."

"Congratulations, Ry," she said, but her smile seemed forced. She'd been weird around him all afternoon.

"Thanks, Little Zee."

She nodded and then disappeared around the door.

"Okay, well," Alvey said, looking back at his fighter. "There's all your stuff. You're good to go. It's all right there for you, man."

Ryan nodded as he shook his hand. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Zoey excused herself from the celebration in the hallway to find a bathroom. Once the door swung shut behind her and she was alone, the quiet soothed her. She was tired, but it was more than that. She was... drained. Overwhelmed. Her soul felt dark. She should have been happy, so happy, but instead she was scratching at the inside of her wrist.

Her brother had worked so hard, and he'd won. He'd dedicated his win to her, and for a moment, everything was fine. But the rush was over, and the crash was even worse than the limbo before.

* * *

"I'm proud of my guys. Ryan and Jay both fought their hearts out. You know, we got the results we wanted."

"You mentioned before that Nate's almost ready to go again. Add Jay and Wheeler, and that's three top fighters from your camp. That's gotta feel good."

"Yeah, no, it's – it's good. I feel fortunate, but you know, you're only as good as your fighters. I said that when I was fighting, and I continue to say it today."

"Alright, well there you have it; Alvey Kulina quickly establishing himself as one of the top trainers in MMA today."

The camera turned off, and both men shook hands. Alvey walked over to Lisa, who was standing over to the side waiting for him.

"Congratulations," she said, smiling lightly.

"You, too," he told her.

"You gonna come home?"

She glanced behind her, making sure his kids were nowhere to be seen. "I'll, uh. I'll let you know where I stay."

He listened as her high heels clicked away down the hall.

* * *

"This drink," Jay declared, "is for my baby brother Nathaniel!" The whole party cheered as Jay continued, "The youngest member of the Navy Street tribe! We're gonna be doing this for you soon, son! Cause you're a fighter, and when you don't fight, you become highly irascible."

"That's a big word, Jay," Nate laughed as he downed a shot. "Don't fucking hurt yourself."

"Irascible," Jay repeated. "Iraschible. Irascible. You have a churning sprit within you, Nate. And it concerns me." He sniffed and picked up the next shot glass. "Little Zee, my baby sister…"

She was already drunk, but she was still coherent enough to know what was going on. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"We love you so fucking much. Especially me. I won that fight just for you. I was thinking about you the whole time."

She smiled dazedly.

"When you're ready to talk more… you come to me, you got it? Cause I know you're not okay in there." He reached across to tap her forehead, and even though she smacked his hand away, he remained undeterred. "You're my fucking kid. I made you all the peanut butter sandwiches in the world. I've fucking got you. And you, Lisa!"

"Yes?"

"This one," he said, pouring another shot, "is for you."

"Aww," she said, not looking up from her drink.

"Because I fucking love you."

"I love you, too," she smiled.

"And you know what? You need to quit fucking around and start managing fighters and making kings and queens. Cause you're that good."

"I don't… oh yeah." She nodded sarcastically.

Zoey reached across and stole Nate's beer bottle.

"Hey!" he snapped, but she was already tipping it back. She needed every ounce of alcohol she could get to push these feelings down. Even after how well tonight had gone, she was feeling worse than ever, but she couldn't show it. She _wouldn't._ She needed to forget.

"No, hey," Jay said, pulling Lisa's attention back to him. "I'm serious. You got me a fight when nobody else would get me a fucking fight and everybody thought I was a cunt."

"You _are_ a fucking cunt."

"Well, now I'm a fighting cunt!" he proclaimed. "Whaaaat! Bam!" He slammed his shot glass down on the picnic table.

Just then, a familiar face appeared at the Kulina's gate.

Jay shouted, "Stop! The! Partaaaayyyyyy! It's the champion – Ryan Wheeler!"

All the party guests cheered as Ryan lifted his arms triumphantly into the air.

"Come here, you motherfucker," Jay laughed, slapping his best friend's back as they embraced. "You're fucking killing me _,_ Captain Golden Cock, with your flaxen fucking hair and your toothy little grin, you little bastard." Jay's drunken grin was a mile wide. "You want a shot?"

"No, no, I'm good thanks," Ryan declined politely.

"Come on, come on," Jay tempted.

"No, I can't."

"Shh, shh…" Jay hushed, reaching for an unused glass.

"I fucking can't, I had one earlier and I'm on parole. I gotta piss in a cup on Monday."

"I thought you let that guy drink your sweat!" Jay said loudly. "I thought you had one up on him!"

Ryan put his finger over his lips.

"Is that what happened?!" Lisa exclaimed, bursting into giggles.

"Wait, what?" Nate and Zoey asked at the same time.

There was no explanation, though – it seemed that only the "grown-ups" were in on that story. The Kulina kids were more or less used to that, though, and they let it drop.

Zoey only made it a few more minutes before she laid her head down on the picnic table and accidentally went to sleep. Nate disappeared to check on Christina per Jay's request, leaving Lisa at the table alone with Wheeler.

"No, Nate, don't leave me!" she cried. "We're drinking buddies!"

He left without a word – he probably couldn't hear her over all the noise of the party. She shook her head, lit a cigarette, and poured herself another shot.

"So it's gonna be that kind of night," Wheeler chuckled.

"Until my face is numb."

* * *

"Such a little wallflower," Christina cooed inside. About an hour had passed, and she found Nate sitting on the floor by the new record player. "It's okay; you let them come to you." She sighed. "Scoot over."

He obliged.

"I like that you're still using a glass."

"Like a gentleman," he answered.

"Mm. Hey, where's Jay?"

Nate looked away.

"Oh, I don't want to know?"

"Probably not."

"I'll take your word for it, then. I saw Zoey passed out in the front yard." She laughed.

Nate was silent, brooding. It wasn't funny. Zoey wasn't supposed to be like this.

"Are you having a good time?" Christina asked, leaning on his shoulder.

"Mm-hmm."

"It's hard to tell."

"Should I be wearing a party hat?" he asked slowly, making an effort not to slur his words.

"Do we have party hats? I love party hats."

Nate huffed in amusement.

"Finally," Christina said, lightly pushing at his arm.

"Mom, I'm happy," he said flatly.

"You don't have to be happy," Christina told him. "Just be yourself. Or else it's gonna feel like there's a stranger living inside you, and you'll never be happy." She looked at his shot glass. "Can I have that?"

He passed it to her. He needed to check on Zoey. He needed to make sure no one burned the house down. He needed to keep an eye on his mom for Jay. He needed to drink some water before he had one of the most colossal hangovers of his life. But he wasn't going to do any of those things. He was going to go out. He was going to go out to the fucking gayest of all the gay bars he could find, and he was going to drink until he felt okay enough to go home with some guy. He was going to let the guy fuck him, and then he was going to crash hard. He was going to be gone in the morning before the sun even came up.

* * *

"I fucking tolerate so much shit from you fighters," Lisa told Ryan outside.

"Oh, please. Please! You don't tolerate shit from nobody."

"I tolerate everything, I worry about everything… I need a fucking break. I need a hotel."

"Just stay here!" Ryan suggested.

"Hmm," she replied.

"What can I do?" Ryan asked. "Can I – can I help? How can I make you feel better?"

"You can't," Lisa told him. "It doesn't work that way."

"Why? Why can't it?"

"Because! It doesn't just happen all in one night. You don't get it all back!"

Ryan looked away.

* * *

Zoey slept another hour on edge of the picnic table. When she woke, she found that someone had recently sloshed vodka on her shoulder. Great.

She sat up and stumbled into the house. She was considerably less drunk than she'd been before, but she was still nowhere near sober. She fought her way through tightly packed bodies into the kitchen for a glass of water.

She knew tonight was supposed to be a celebration, but all she really wanted was to cry her heart out. She opened her bedroom door – two girls were fucking on her bed. Zoey bit her lip and walked away, leaving the door flung wide open. She needed Jay right now.

She knew the fact that the door was closed meant that he had at least one girl back there, but she didn't care. She needed him, high or fucking or not. She pushed his door open and found him sandwiched between two blondes.

"Jay," she said when none of them looked up. "JAY."

"Not now, Zee, come on. I'm-" He moaned. "I'm busy."

"Jay, you promised," she said weakly.

"I know, I know," he said breathlessly. "Give me a couple minutes, I just – I'm gonna-"

Zoey shook her head, disgusted. Maybe Nate was still home. She opened his door and found a guy and a girl half-naked and making out. They froze and started to awkwardly apologize, but she put her hand up and shut the door behind herself. She didn't want to hear it.

Lisa wasn't in the yard when Zoey woke up, and she wasn't the type to drink in the house. She must have left. Zoey opened her phone and stared at her contacts list, but she didn't have the nerve to type out, "Hey, I really want to hurt myself right now," to any of her family or friends, especially when none of them even knew. And there was no way she was reaching out to Ryan after his last terrible advice.

Her hands trembled. The only idea she had was to get the fuck out. She couldn't be at the house anymore. It was too loud, too hot. Everything smelled like marijuana and coke.

"Zee?" a voice asked. "You're shaking. Are you okay?"

Zoey turned to see Mac behind her, his eyes soft with concern. "I-" she started, but then she cut herself off before she burst into tears. "I have to go."

She jogged out of the yard and walked briskly down to the blocks to her dad's house. At least there it would be calm. She saw a strange sight through the window when she got there, though; Christina was sitting at the bar with Alvey, her hand on his arm. They were too close. Fuck. Zoey wasn't dealing with this.

In her drunken mind, there was only one thing for her to do – run. She grabbed Alvey's spare key ring from under the mat and climbed up into the Escalade. She got into the driver's seat, adjusted the rear-view mirror, and peeled down the driveway.

Alvey glanced outside just in time to see his car being driven away.

* * *

The hours that night passed like a dream.

Christina left Alvey's and got in a black car, headed straight for her old life.

Ryan came back and hungrily kissed Lisa on the lips. She engaged for a few seconds, the taste of him bringing back a million memories at once, but then she pushed him off and stormed out of the room.

Nate walked down to The Roosterfish on Abbot Kinney. He drank even more, found a gorgeous guy, and got fucked until his body felt like lead.

Jay drifted in and out of the haze of sleep, his dreams filled with a false warmth and the steady pulse of a very real migraine.

Zoey drove alone into the night.

 _Most guys run from fights. Cause they don't want the answer to the inevitable question that they whisper to themselves. Am I one of the weak? Or am I one of the strong?_


End file.
